Size / / /

Content warning:


“the fear of cyborgs to believe in flesh” © 2022 by Maria Carvalho

A crack in my leg opened my world,
shattered it like thunder announces
the arrival of lightning
that illuminates the celestial sphere.

The tip of my finger followed
its ridged edge and my brain,
refusing to let go of my missing limb,
had the muscles in my thigh twitch.

Anticipating agony, my shaking hand
peeled away the corroding copper cast
holding my path in its rigid embrace.

Beneath the mint and coral galaxy
I believed to be my cosmos,
a gasp of relief escaped living cells
as they emerged from their coma.

By the time I was free,
my hand, the liberator, was cut up, red
mixing with the orange and the green
on the floor in a river of eternity.

I drew in it, covered my fingers in it,
imagined my arm encased
in this universe I created of my own.



Vanessa Jae writes horrifically beautiful anarchies, reads stories for Apex Magazine, and translates for Progressive International. She also collects black hoodies and bruises in mosh pits on Tuesday nights. To read tweets by interesting people, follow her at @thevanessajae.
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.
...
For a long time now you’ve put on the shirt of the walls,/just as others might put on a shroud.
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.
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
Load More
%d bloggers like this: