Tag: fiction
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Fiftieth Floor — Tap and Die 010
The main attendant scrolled through. And scrolled through. “No Dawes other than a young girl.” Jack’s daughter. And his wife?
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Slugs in the Fountain — Tap and Die 009
The main attendant scrolled through. And scrolled through. “No Dawes other than a young girl.” Jack’s daughter. And his wife?
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Fellow Dogs — Tap and Die 008
The main attendant scrolled through. And scrolled through. “No Dawes other than a young girl.” Jack’s daughter. And his wife?
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Lava gloves — Tap and Die 007
The main attendant scrolled through. And scrolled through. “No Dawes other than a young girl.” Jack’s daughter. And his wife?
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Redcrown — Tap and Die 006
The main attendant scrolled through. And scrolled through. “No Dawes other than a young girl.” Jack’s daughter. And his wife?
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Jack — Tap and Die 005
The main attendant scrolled through. And scrolled through. “No Dawes other than a young girl.” Jack’s daughter. And his wife?
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Dövë — Tap and Die 004
The main attendant scrolled through. And scrolled through. “No Dawes other than a young girl.” Jack’s daughter. And his wife?
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For Luck — Tap and Die 003
Frey didn’t think Jack would show. Jack hadn’t shown for nine months now: she could have been pregnant and had a baby in this time. He was always helping everyone else but her and Dövë. Or it felt that way. She saw the painting of the three of them surrounded by grandparents and cousins, and…
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Hollow Needle — Tap and Die 002
The Hollow Needle did not rise above the horizon, but sank into the great peak of Weststool, steam and smoke heralding it in a great circular halo. One of five new taps in Gergia, the opposite of towers, it drilled down into a too-wide hole. Seven carriage bridges—long stone pathways lit by gas lamps—led from…
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Honorifics — Tap and Die 001
The driver looked cockeyed at Black Jack Dawes’s half-frozen hands that held the other reins. The driver took kings and nobles all over the Ivrian side of the world, not crusty old tradesmen in khaki dusters, range hats, knee-high boots slathered in mud, and that black cloak with those unfixed stars on it. And no…
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The Way the Birds Call
It was the early morning after a big snow and the sun had just come out from the clouds. Even still, the ground had kept its heat from earlier, hot spring days. Instead of sticking and freezing, it had turned the road into deep mud. Just another day of that familiar thick clay Ed was…
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Tiger Caves and Temple Monkeys
Previously published in The Best Asian Short Stories (2021), Kitaab, Singapore. The hills are dipped in pastel shades of gold and indigo. The wind surrounds me in playful whistles, beating my clothes in sudden outbursts and drying off the sweat on my neck. Joint-aches had troubled me a bit when I climbed up this rock,…