Size / / /

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the king of water and fish and things
with his iron trident
grasped so tightly
slammed his second fist into the
bedrock of the sea
and I,

sitting up at the lighthouse
cold hands clasped contemplatively
on my knees
and legs dangling over the
churning black deep,

said “don’t you take that tone with me”



Gretchen Tessmer is a writer based in the U.S./Canadian borderlands. She writes both short fiction and poetry (way too much poetry), with work appearing in such venues as Nature, Daily Science Fiction, Cast of Wonders, and The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, as well as a previous appearance in Strange Horizons.
Current Issue
4 Dec 2023

“Ask me something only I would know.” You say this to your wife because you know you’re human. You can feel it in the familiar ache in your back, and the fear writhing in your guts. You feel it in the cold seeping into your bare feet from the kitchen floor. You know you’re real because you remember.
now, there is the shape...humanoid, but not / necessarily human
He came from a salt mine that used to be solid all the way through
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