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ByJason Sanford

a horse drawn carriage in front of a building.

The Eight-Thousanders

He spoke once, the words whispered by frozen lips on a face so frostbitten he looked like a porcelain doll. I found him below the summit as our expedition bottlenecked before the Hillary Step on our final ascent of Mount Everest.

ByLH Moore

a poster for apex magazine with a woman holding a glowing ball.

Roots on Ya

Everyone else just stood there in their Sunday best looking on with their mouths open, their eyes wide. Some of the ladies hollered. One fainted dead away. Even the menfolk gasped and let loose an Oh Lord here and there.

ByTonya Liburd

The Ace of Knives

They say that the manifestation of one’s magic is determined by the crucial events and influences—internal and external—surrounding one’s special time which happened during puberty. Signs and markers can help point out specifically when one’s special time will manifest; but the Ace of Knives was alone.

ByWole Talabi

a magazine cover with a picture of a man in the desert.

When We Dream We Are Our God

Today, in a small, quiet room near the centre of the Lagos University Teaching Hospital, I went into the cold darkness of sleep and when I returned to the warm light of consciousness, I had become a god.

ByLH Moore

a magazine cover with a woman in a blue shirt.

With These Hands

It is with a trembling hand that I write this. Given the color of my skin and the simple life that I have led and tried to create for myself so far, many would be surprised that I could write this at all.

ByGary Kloster

Riding the Signal

Alec Chu traveled the high road, swinging his bot through the trees.

ByNisi Shawl

a poster with a picture of a man in a suit and tie.

Luisah’s Church

A white man in overalls, shivering and rubbing his arms as he ran up the alleyway. Everything about that was suspicious. Did she know who he was?

ByCassandra Khaw

a painting of a woman with her eyes closed.

What to Do When It’s Nothing but Static

Don’t stop until the world clicks back into position. Sky above, earth below. Flesh threaded along calcium. Nerves and sinew, thews and thighs, the gravity of viscera and old scars, six decades’ worth.

ByTim Pratt

a picture of a robot with a caption that reads three sections to the queen.

Three Petitions to the Queen of Hell

Marla and Zufi, the reigning queens of Hell, were eight years into a meaningless spat, living more as roommates than lovers, and as a consequence, Marla was irritable and Zufi was bored.