Author: Thoraiya Dyer

Houdini’s Heart

Right now, at the end of his shift, the queue that floats in his segmented white tunnel is stalled by that stubborn multimedia magician. Again. Olwen has grown, over the past six Cat-Four months, to hate the sight of the woman; he loathes her gently fluorescent teeth and her short, otter-thick hair, her stupid purple cape with the silver stars that floats in zero gravity and gets stuck in the ventilation, and, last but not least, her ill-founded conviction that the heart she was born with can handle the repeated electrical discharges from the Continuous Storm into the Bright Plain.

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