When You Give a Dokkaebi Taco Tuesday by H.H. Pak
Of course I could kill him. If I wanted to, I would not hesitate to unhinge my jaw around his neck, skewering his trachea with my tusks and locking my […]
PodCastle 953: The Will of the God of Music
I called the swan down
Escape Pod 1059: A Little Freedom Makes Us Rebels
Precogs in the Machine
By Nat Katz in Issue #464 of Beneath Ceaseless Skies Online Magazine She looked into his brown eyes, and her vision doubled and trebled: Peter in a tunnel and in an alley covered by blood and walking on what she knew from her readings of distant lands to be grass. She felt she could come unmoored and drift away into those visions, wondered wheth...
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