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Passing cars smeared neon Amharic across two lanes
Spattering blurry headlights athwart wet asphalt.
Tanis stood under the overhang of the shuttered vape shop
Dragging on a loosie, ignoring the pain of stilettos.
Inhaled to allow scaled titanium lungs and cloned bronchioles
To osmose the spiraling smoke.
Her target exited the door opposite and ducked into
A low-slung hoverlimo, which coiled upward, toward the rotating
Restaurant. It had been close enough for Tanis to transfer
To the onboard computer, leaving her body under the overhang.
She shut down the engine and waited until two feet from impact
To reanimate her body. She took another drag,
Observing the wreckage … and walked away on painful stilettos.



K. Ceres Wright received her master’s degree in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University, and her published cyberpunk novel, Cog, was her thesis for the program. Her short stories, poems, and articles have appeared in numerous publications. Check out her stories at kceres.net.
Current Issue
26 Feb 2024

I can’t say any of this to the man next to me because he is wearing a tie
Language blasts through the malicious intentions and blows them to ash. Language rises triumphant over fangs and claws. Language, in other words, is presented as something more than a medium for communication. Language, regardless of how it is purposed, must be recognized as a weapon.
verb 4 [C] to constantly be at war, spill your blood and drink. to faint and revive yourself. to brag of your scars.
Wednesday: The Body Problem by Margaret Wack 
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