When Hands was six, she discovered that not everyone had a third arm. She’d long wondered how her mother, a delicate but stern woman, kept her third arm out of the way of things. Why she would let pans drop when she was nervous, or fretting, and why she couldn’t open doors when her hands … Read moreGale Rising (Hands)
Lights crackled on in that strange room. Ancient radioactive things, course alight with electricity; noble gases arcing with energy. Where did the fucking things even get that much power? Did they find working generators? Make them fresh in some fucking hole in the ground? Blue prints. Were there bug scientists? Slowly rising to my feet … Read moreA Court for Crows (Part 34)
Warm lighting overhead. Crackling phosphorescent. Eyes slowly slid open. Thoughts jumbled together in a raw procession, like a funeral but half the cars were lost, diverted down other roads. Warm red walls; posters and newspapers from faded worlds, kept preserved in thick cases, atmosphere controls still running. Hard backed maps; like someone had merely paused … Read moreA Court For Crows (Part 33)