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Short Fiction from Apex Magazine

Issue 128Short Fiction


Godmother watches over us all. The AI’s face beams out across the city from a billboard, wearing a nurse’s cap and a beatific smile befitting her name. Nickname, to be precise. Her official name, ZolaMX3, was scrapped only days after she launched

Issue 128Short Fiction

Soil of Our Home, Storm of Our Lives

There were two terrorists inside her house. Inside Mami’s house. They were named Alfredo and Gui as they didn’t seem to be worried about hiding their names while talking with each other. The only thing they’d asked of her was a first aid kit, so she grabbed the one Marcos had given her as a gift and that she’d never used.

Issue 127Short Fiction

Thresher of Men

Black Edie was trying to restart the Benz. The old hermit kept turning the key and stomping on the gas pedal so hard she was bouncing on the driver’s seat. By way of a reply, the car she’d owned since Jesus was a toddler wheezed, smoked ... and died. The look of dazed resignation on Black Edie’s face infuriated Fitzsimmons even more. 

Issue 127Short Fiction

Hank in the South Dakota Sun

If Hank were sluggish, or in need of a major repair; if we regularly missed deadlines, or broke down while underway, I might understand. There are dozens of things that can put a train out of commission for good, and I’ve been afraid of many of them in the years since I was given the chance to be Hank’s conductor. I just never thought corporate indifference would be one of them.