Size / / /

She ate. Tongues like devils, you see, languages, las palabras.
Golem mouth really, hers, will dip tongue in ink, tintenschwarz like currants black.
Hungry, she, always, but doesn't eat for life, for her, the words are l'amour.
I think it is her mother's fault, mothers, always first point of blame;
her mother never did give the girl a tongue, not the kind
that you are given with hugs and kisses anyways, no bayushki bayu
for the girl. She eats like a devil, now anyways.
Can you imagine what will happen when she speaks?




Alexandra Seidel spent many a night stargazing when she was a child. These days, she writes stories and poems, something the stargazing probably helped with. Alexa’s writing has appeared in Strange Horizons, Uncanny Magazine, Fireside Magazine, and elsewhere. You can follow her on Twitter @Alexa_Seidel, like her Facebook page, and find out what she’s up to at alexandraseidel.com.
Current Issue
7 Oct 2024

The aquarium is different every time I die. Exhibits reshuffling like a deck of cards. The blood loss, though, that’s reliable.
i need lichen / to paint my exoskeleton in bursts of blue and yellow.
specters thawing out of the Northwest Passage like carbon from permafrost
By: Christopher Blake
Podcast read by: Emmie Christie
  In this episode of the Strange Horizons Fiction podcast, Michael Ireland presents Christopher Blake's "A Recipe for Life, A Tonic for Grief" read by Emmie Christie. You can read the full text of the story, and more about Chris, here. Subscribe to the Strange Horizons podcast: Spotify
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