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This country is a kingdom
I’m a loyal subject
I don’t voice my opinion
Though I’m always oppressed
Milady I’m a malady
Forego the old formalities
Oh prince laugh now while I’m still bowed down
I’m not joking, see soon I’ll don the crown
This pauper will be a king
You’ll have your arrogant faces on the ground
Go ahead and call me treacherous
Say I covet your riches
Slander me now
Tomorrow you'll be a grave man
The order to behead you, surely as you stand
My old enemies who jeered and mocked my face
Worry not, for they’ll suffer a worse disgrace
My words; How distasteful
My thoughts: ill-begotten
Malicious and rotten to the core?
I’m the way the world made me
Returning everything they gave me
Following the rule of old
An eye for an eye, yes they covet
Ear for an ear, they misconceive
A tooth for a tooth, they house a tongue that sells lies
An arm for an arm, as they divvy out crimes
Returning love for hate always put me in bad state
Turning the other cheek trapped me in a worse place



Antonio Funches is a young man who has faced and dealt with depression and anxiety attacks since childhood due to excessive bullying. Antonio and his sister were abandoned by their parents as toddlers, and finally got adopted by their grandmother. Writing became Antonio's object of peace, allowing him to vent out any pessimism.
Current Issue
22 Apr 2024

We’d been on holiday at the Shoon Sea only three days when the incident occurred. Dr. Gar had been staying there a few months for medical research and had urged me and my friend Shooshooey to visit.
...
Tu enfiles longuement la chemise des murs,/ tout comme d’autres le font avec la chemise de la mort.
The little monster was not born like a human child, yelling with cold and terror as he left his mother’s womb. He had come to life little by little, on the high, three-legged bench. When his eyes had opened, they met the eyes of the broad-shouldered sculptor, watching them tenderly.
Le petit monstre n’était pas né comme un enfant des hommes, criant de froid et de terreur au sortir du ventre maternel. Il avait pris vie peu à peu, sur la haute selle à trois pieds, et quand ses yeux s’étaient ouverts, ils avaient rencontré ceux du sculpteur aux larges épaules, qui le regardaient tendrement.
We're delighted to welcome Nat Paterson to the blog, to tell us more about his translation of Léopold Chauveau's story 'The Little Monster'/ 'Le Petit Monstre', which appears in our April 2024 issue.
For a long time now you’ve put on the shirt of the walls,/just as others might put on a shroud.
Issue 15 Apr 2024
By: Ana Hurtado
Art by: delila
Issue 8 Apr 2024
Issue 1 Apr 2024
Issue 25 Mar 2024
By: Sammy Lê
Art by: Kim Hu
Issue 18 Mar 2024
Strange Horizons
Issue 11 Mar 2024
Issue 4 Mar 2024
Issue 26 Feb 2024
Issue 19 Feb 2024
Issue 12 Feb 2024
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