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Passing cars smeared neon Amharic across two lanes
Spattering blurry headlights athwart wet asphalt.
Tanis stood under the overhang of the shuttered vape shop
Dragging on a loosie, ignoring the pain of stilettos.
Inhaled to allow scaled titanium lungs and cloned bronchioles
To osmose the spiraling smoke.
Her target exited the door opposite and ducked into
A low-slung hoverlimo, which coiled upward, toward the rotating
Restaurant. It had been close enough for Tanis to transfer
To the onboard computer, leaving her body under the overhang.
She shut down the engine and waited until two feet from impact
To reanimate her body. She took another drag,
Observing the wreckage … and walked away on painful stilettos.



K. Ceres Wright received her master’s degree in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University, and her published cyberpunk novel, Cog, was her thesis for the program. Her short stories, poems, and articles have appeared in numerous publications. Check out her stories at kceres.net.
Current Issue
5 Oct 2026

In time, the entire shift’s 138 Express inbound transfers are processed, and I’m free to service passengers from other lines. These transfers are unremarkable. These passengers aren’t refugees.
Forgive me, someone.
Turn on the stove. See it startle.
In this episode of Critical Friends , the Strange Horizons criticism podcast, Dan Hartland is joined by Ryan Elliot and Rosanna Pendlebury, to ask questions about literary SFF. What is it? How do we know it when we see it? And what’s it good for?
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