Taking it up, she smiled into the storm creeping into the kitchen. Lightning cracked in the distance, and the room flooded with ghostly light. The thunder drummed against the house, and she stood and gave herself over to the sound.
Read MoreThe Lightning BirdBut really, the whole damn country is haunted. Every community theatre has an old actor who won’t leave the lights behind; every college and university has a pretty co-ed who hanged herself or jumped out a window; every bed and breakfast has a little child in white. Every Lover’s Lane has a Hook Man, a Goat Man, a Skunk Ape.
Read MoreBad PennyOriginally appeared on Kameron Hurley's Patreon page
Read MoreTumbledown
I swallow cheap blue whiskey. The burn slides down my throat, while I drink in Killer Hands’ owner. He’s good-looking in an off-kilter sort of way: black-curled and black-eyed, aquiline nose just a little too strong for his razor-boned face, the stubble at his jawline the barest suggestion of a shadow. The hands, though—the hands are what you really notice. The hands are the reason I’ve been sitting in this shitty-ass bar, drinking its shitty-ass whiskey.
Read MoreThe Man in the Crimson CoatSighs and groans traveled back through the line. Some folks had been waiting in the delivery chamber a full sunrise-sunset click. The room suffered from cold gusty drafts and a solid metal floor that made the legs ache. Sadly, it was the only way to obtain government-issued items: repaired CommBundles, approved travel vouchers, medicines that weren’t distributed via more onerous channels.
Read MoreSkinny Charlie’s Orbiting Teepee
You maintain a menu of a half dozen Experiences on your digital blackboard, but Vision Quest is the one the Tourists choose the most.
Read MoreWelcome to Your Authentic Indian Experience™
Shelly’s grandma teaches her about ghosts, how to carry them in her hair. If you carry your ghosts in your hair, then you can cut them off when you don’t need them anymore. Otherwise, ghosts cling to your skin, dig their fingers in under your ribs and stay with you long, long after you want them gone.
Read MoreIf a Bird Can Be a GhostMolly lay in bed, listening to a distant gate slam back and forth, rattling in its moorings. The rain echoed on the roof and struck the window. In her younger years, she’d found a storm comforting. She’d be snug and safe while the elements raged outside. In this house, the relaxing pitter-patter of the rain failed to soothe.
Read MoreEntertaining Demons (Novel Excerpt)In most respects, the universe (which some call the Library) is everywhere the same, and we at the summit are like the rest of you below.
Read MoreTHE TURING MACHINES OF BABEL