For nine straight miles, the hot-rolled steel rails cut a path through the woods, a metal chain thrown into soft mud. Discarded, rotting railroad ties littered the tracksides, the stench of creosote saturating the forest air until birds no longer frequented the trees.
I didn’t complain about him / being a werewolf / He thought I didn’t know
Dark against the sky of steel / And men gather to get to its top
In this episode of the Strange Horizons Fiction podcast, Michael Ireland presents A Cure for Solastalgia by E.M. Linden, read by Jenna Hanchley. Subscribe to the Strange Horizons podcast: Spotify
