Size / / /

Content warning:



we bury all our ghosts in the same place; hold your breath in any graveyard and whole cities will pass you, bee-lining to memorized names and dead flowers and hidden, rotting bodies. idling cars time-lapse on the lineless paths. this silence is ancient—you wail in the building, here you remember.

the day your teacher asks what your epitaph, your lineage, will be is the day you learn that in this world your death is the strongest thing you build.

get lost in a graveyard and cry for the name you don’t know. maybe someone will remember to pray a rosary for them. maybe your gnashing of teeth will leave bite marks in their grief, gums bleeding dry while spirits watch.

these sprawling meadows and flat stone testaments hide earth rich because here we tell ourselves death looks like peace and shifting light beams and decomposing memories stacked three shoulders high. if we bury our dead together, they’ll speak to each other instead of in our dreams. if we bury our ghosts in the same place, they’ll remember each other for us.

individual loss, communal burial.

how easy to think yours is the only body, forget every slab is someone’s last attempt to live forever. out of sight, out of memory, out of mind, out of body.

gravestones are finality, solidarity, attempt, statement, honor. gravestones are somewhere to look to avoid seeing the loose dirt screaming underground rot. gravestones are somewhere to look so you don’t lock eyes with someone else’s story trying to be told.

when i die, don’t let them bury me. if they bury me, dig me up, make it noon, make sure they see the fresh dirt on your hands resurrecting me. when i die, burn me in the middle of the meadow.

make my name a treasure hunt. blow me into a stranger’s funeral. if the only way to die is as a final word, drown my story in ghosts you’ve never seen before. make sure those trying to remember me trip over extra bones. let me die as i lived: gathering stories, suffocating in shouts, pulling you into something bigger than we were taught and longer than we know.

if you truly love me, let me visit you in your dreams—and let me bring friends.



Inseparable from their backpack and operating off a tentatively solid life plan, Hana is a 20-year- old, nearly-graduated college kid.  They believe in the power of good clickbait, regularly cry about mountains, and have the goal of cuddling a zebra shark.  They are white, able-bodied, and middle class.
Current Issue
18 Jan 2021

Splinters, old and new. How else can the skin remember the tree? If it hurts, that is the point.
Soft Shoulder speaking softly / quick-stop-tongued lanky cur dog / lisping languid in jeans
By: Zach Ozma
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Podcast read by: Zach Ozma
In this episode of the Strange Horizons podcast, editor Ciro Faienza presents Zach Ozma's “Soft Shoulder (Excerpt)” with a reading by the poet.
The way I see it, this story is full of symbolic touchstones, visual elements with layers of meaning that are not always obvious, or even accessible, to the reader.
Wednesday: Bulbbul 
Friday: The Hierarchies by Ros Anderson 
Issue 11 Jan 2021
By: Ryu Ando
Podcast read by: Kat Kourbeti
By: Nikki Caffier Smith
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 4 Jan 2021
By: Maya Beck
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
By: Stephanie Burt
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Podcast read by: Stephanie Burt
Issue 21 Dec 2020
By: Octavia Cade
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
By: Meep Matsushima
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Podcast read by: Meep Matsushima
Issue 14 Dec 2020
By: ML Kejera
Podcast read by: Kat Kourbeti
By: Brigid Nemeton
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Podcast read by: Brigid Nemeton
7 Dec 2020
Strange Horizons is now accepting fiction submissions for the Palestinian Special issue! The issue, edited by Rasha Abdulhadi and Basma Ghalayini will be published at the end of March 2021. We are open for submissions from now until January 31, 2021. Don't wait till the end to send your work!
7 Dec 2020
تقديم الطلبات مفتوح من الان و حتى تاريخ 31 يناير 2021. قدم/ قدمي عملك عاجلا و ليس آجلا!
Issue 7 Dec 2020
By: Toby MacNutt
Podcast read by: Anaea Lay
By: Anna Cates
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 1 Dec 2020
By: Ateri Miyawatl
Translated by: Ateri Miyawatl
By: Ateri Miyawatl
Translated by: Adam Coon
By: Vraiux Dorós
Translated by: Toshiya Kamei
By: Luz Rosales
Translated by: Andrea Chapela
By: Libia Brenda
Translated by: Allana C. Noyes
By: Ateri Miyawatl
Podcast read by: Ateri Miyawatl
Podcast: Bromelia (English) 
Podcast: Bromelia (Español) 
Issue 23 Nov 2020
By: Michael Bazzett
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Podcast read by: Michael Bazzett
Issue 16 Nov 2020
By: Cat Aquino
Podcast read by: Kat Kourbeti
By: Michael Chang
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Load More
%d bloggers like this: