Short Fiction
Elizabeth Bear

Dolly

On Sunday when Dolly awakened, she had olive skin and black-brown hair that fell in waves to her hips. On Tuesday when Dolly awakened, she was a redhead, and fair. But on Thursday — on Thursday her eyes were blue, her hair was as black as a crow’s-wing, and her hands were red with blood.

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Short Fiction
Elizabeth Bear

The Leavings of the Wolf

Dagmar was doomed to run. Feet in stiff, new trail shoes flexing, hitting. The sharp ache of each stride in knees no longer accustomed to the pressure.

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