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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
18 Mar 2024

Strange Horizons
We are very happy to welcome Dante Luiz as a new fiction editor on the team! Dante is a Ignyte Award winning author, and has been with Strange Horizons working as an Art Director for the past several years. We’re stoked to bring him on to the fiction side and have him bring his wonderful insight and skill to the fiction team.
Day in and day out, the rough waters of the Pacific slam themselves against the protrusion of sandstone the locals refer to as Morro Rock. White streaks of bird shit bleed down the rock, a testament to the rare birds of prey that nest in its pocked face overlooking the bay.
in my defence, juggling biological and artificial, i tripped over my shoelace, and spilled my lungs empty of the innocence that was, before guilt.
the birds, / who carry with them / the many names of the dead
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Issue 29 Jan 2024
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Issue 8 Jan 2024
Issue 1 Jan 2024
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