Short Fiction
Catherynne M. Valente

The Quidnunx

There are big curse words and little curse words in anybody’s language. A little cursing isn’t hardly cursing at all. A child could do it and everyone round the supper table would laugh, turn red, and stick a bun in that sour young mouth while secretly making a note to tell every one of their friends just what their beastly wee urchin had said last night on the subject of his pea soup.

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Award Nominees
Catherynne M. Valente

The Bread We Eat in Dreams

In a sea of long grass and tiny yellow blueberry flowers some ways off of Route 1, just about halfway between Cobscook Bay and Passamaquoddy Bay, the town of Sauve-Majeure puts up its back against the Bald Moose Mountains.

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Editorial
Catherynne M. Valente

Editorial: Good-bye

18 months ago I took over Apex as editor–I wanted to learn and I hoped to have an effect on the magazine and the field, highlighting new authors and printing stories that might not have found homes elsewhere. It’s not for me to judge whether I succeeded at that task, but a girl can hope.

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