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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.
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13 Jul 2026

The guillotine was conceived as swifter, painless, more humane. You touch your throat. You wonder.
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In this episode of the Strange Horizons Fiction podcast, Michael Ireland presents Aimee Ogden's 'Because I Held His Name Like a Key' read by Jenna Hanchey. Subscribe to the Strange Horizons podcast: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Spotify⁠⁠
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