Size / / /

They have imagined something they call time.

They chain it to their wrists.

They do time.

Make it, save it.  Borrow, buy

and spend it.  Time crawls, they say. Time flies.

It warps and bends.

They lose it and collect it.

They freeze it.

Time out.

Time in.

Time off.

In time.

On time. About time.

Some claim to have all the time in the world.

Double, half, and quarter,

full time. Time and a half, and unpaid over,

hard and break and

just-in-

time.

Quitting time.

Some have none to spare.

Some are completely out.

Good time, they say.  Bad.      Real time. Time out of mind.

They try to kill it.

Their stories speak of time machines.

They dream.




Bette Lynch Husted's collection of memoir essays, Above the Clearwater: Living on Stolen Land, was a finalist for both the 2004 Oregon Book Award and the 2005 WILLA Award (Women Writing the West) in creative nonfiction. A poetry chapbook, After Fire, was published by Puddinghouse in 2002; Triplopia nominated her poem "Tending Adobe" for a Pushcart Prize. Her essays, poems, and stories have appeared in Oregon Humanities, Fourth Genre, Prairie Schooner, Northwest Review, Natural Bridge, and other journals. She was a 1994 Fishtrap Fellow.
Current Issue
24 Mar 2025

The winner is the one with the most living wasps
Every insect was a chalk outline of agony / defined, evaluated, ranked / by how much it hurt
In this episode of the Strange Horizons Fiction podcast, Michael Ireland presents Reprise by Samantha Lane Murphy, read by Emmie Christie. Subscribe to the Strange Horizons podcast: Spotify
Black speculative poetry works this way too. It’s text that is flexible and immediate. It’s a safe space to explore Afrocentric text rooted in story, song, dance, rhythm that natural flows from my intrinsic self. It’s text that has a lot of hurt, as in pain, and a lot of healing—an acceptance of self, black is beauty, despite what the slave trade, colonialism, racism, social injustice might tell us.
Monster of the Week as Realism 
It’s not that I never read realistic fiction and not that I don’t like it. It’s just that sometimes I don’t get it. I know realistic fiction, speculative fiction, and genre fiction are just terms we made up to sell more narrative, but I’m skeptical of how the expectations and norms of realism lurk, largely uninterrogated or even fully articulated, in the way readers, editors, and publishers interact with work that purports to depict quote unquote real life.  Most broadly defined, realistic stories depict the quotidian and accurately reproduce the daily events, characters, and settings of the world we live
Friday: Adam and Eve in Paradise by José Maria de Eça de Queirós, translated by Margaret Jull Costa 
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Podcast read by: Jenna Hanchey
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