Size / / /

Cleave logic in two with your tongue.
Sharpen lies into fancy letter openers with scrolled brass handles.
Your head can think of a way to make a thing not what it seems.
It’s so good at fooling you, why not use it to carve reality into your
own liking.

Start small.
Tell him he is beautiful.
Tell her she is brave.
Repeat these things until they are not observations
but truth.
Turn her into a warring, fierce thing.
Make him blush.
Shape them with the sound of your breath between your teeth.

When you have remade them into what you want them to be,
push your powers further.
Explain to friends of friends you won the lottery once but it was all stolen.
Tell the police officer you have never sped before in your life,
this is your first time being pulled over for anything
except when you were small and shoplifted a can of Crisco without your
mother's notice.
Make sure to describe your mother's chill anger in detail.

Learn how to cut.
Tell the woman at the airport your flight hasn’t been canceled, what's
wrong with her?
Say, "The next round of drinks is on me," and leave right after.

Tell him he's ugly.
Tell her you always knew she was a coward.

Spells, once cast, break easily
no matter the silver sheen in your mouth.
Carve the illusion with care because the lie that breaks
slices the liar with her own tongue,
opens her up like a false love letter with a real heart inside it.

Gillian Daniels attended the 2011 Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writing Workshop and afterward moved to Boston, MA. Her work appears in Apex Magazine, PodCastle, Flash Fiction Online, and Lady Churchill's Rosebud Wristlet among others. She writes reviews for Fantastic Stories of the Imagination.
Current Issue
17 Jan 2022

The land burns so hot and high tonight that Let can see its orange glow even from the heart of The City of Birds. It burns so thick she can taste the whole year’s growth of leaves and branches on her lips. It burns so fast she can almost hear the deer and cottontails scream as flames outrun them and devour them whole.
I writhe in bed with fever, chills, chatters and shivers. The near becomes far as the far comes close.
No one gets married before going to space.
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By: Merie Kirby
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Issue 13 Dec 2021
By: Freydís Moon
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Issue 6 Dec 2021
By: C. S. E. Cooney
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Podcast read by: C. S. E. Cooney
Issue 29 Nov 2021
Issue 22 Nov 2021
Issue 15 Nov 2021
By: Madeline Grigg
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 8 Nov 2021
By: Allison Parrish
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Issue 1 Nov 2021
By: Liam Corley
Podcast read by: Ciro Faienza
Podcast read by: Liam Corley
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