Size / / /

Content warning:


║●

1 half-rotted black boot.
Initial inferred usage: fashion.
Final inferred usage: survival.
(Note: the phrase
The crumbling signs of material wealth
from an ineffectual species
bent on effortless luxury.
But we ended beautiful.
We ended beautiful

added into record
post-collection by unknown entity)

║●●

1 gas mask,
attached to glass dome painted black,
tiny fissures
around points of contact.
Conclusion: fatal.
Within, plant material – desiccated:
final attempt at oxygen exchange?
(Note: the phrase
It was not enough green
to remind a decaying species
the color of their planet’s birthright.
Of
their birthright.
So we kept experimenting.
Kept playing
with what we might find
in the beyond.
And    
it     answered
added into record
post-collection by unknown entity)

║●●●

2 spent flares,
containers cracked plastic.
Age: one thousand years old.
(Note: the phrase
The light took so much
when it birthed itself alive.
It had never been the empty dark
so silent
we needed fear.
What hid in the bright
filled us so deep
and long—
never darkness again.
Can you forgive our brilliance?
Eyes becoming fluorescent marbles,
too aflame with
now to     ever     look     back.
Bodies hung lamps—
nightlights going unused
in the swinging forests

added into record
post-collection by unknown entity)

║●●●●

1 tattered field guide
on edible plants,
each entry crossed out.
Conclusion: X-marks covering up
multiple entries
from variously aged inks
spanning decades.
(Note: the phrase
Those deficient
in cholecalciferol
lasted longest.
Their final season endless enjoyment,
for us.
But the world died,
underfoot.
Flora, fauna overdosed
on radiant excess from us
Walking Bright.
Survivors sat in darkness,
alone,
afraid
to even hold the memory of light.
You have so much beautiful light in you,
don’t you?
You glow, in your little metal ship,
in the vast expanse of space.
The dark doesn’t notice you.
Doesn’t care for you.
Won’t hold you.
It is a wonderful thing,
to be together.
It is a wonderful thing,
to give in.
It can be a wonderful thing.
We can be
a wonderful thing

added into record
post-collection by unknown entity)

COMMAND ORDER: approved for immediate burn upon discovery of ghosts



G.E. Woods (they/she) first ran into the arms of horror as a 5-year-old working in haunted houses. Queer, nonbinary, and invisibly disabled, they are a poet, memoirist, and writes SFF/H. She is a 2023 Rhysling finalist and has work published in STRANGE HORIZONS, YOUR BODY IS NOT YOUR BODY and MOONFLOWERS & NIGHTSHADE. She enjoys talking to the trees near their home. Find her at gewoods.com.
Current Issue
16 Feb 2026

Water is life here, and it's evident in that if you stray too far off the beaten path and away from water, you will get lost and you’ll be lucky if anyone sees you again before sundown. My village is settled neatly between two gentle rolling mesas and along a thin river in a sparsely populated community lovingly called ‘the valley’.
In the beginning, the ocean was lonely / and so she created a fifteen-year-old girl / (or was it the other way around?)
It’s me not you, and the / Hole in the sky still weeps sticky tears.
Wednesday: Lies Weeping by Glen Cook 
Friday: Slow Gods by Claire North 
Issue 9 Feb 2026
Issue 2 Feb 2026
By: Natasha King
Podcast read by: Jenna Hanchey
Issue 26 Jan 2026
Issue 19 Jan 2026
Issue 12 Jan 2026
Issue 5 Jan 2026
Strange Horizons
Issue 22 Dec 2025
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Strange Horizons
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