Science Fiction & Fantasy

January 26, 1906

Forty-seven days have passed and the bananas in my kitchen are still green. They remain untouched and unmoved since I brought them home from market. To my eye they appear... [+]

“It’s an old building,” Becky said, when Peter asked her.
“Do you get them in your apartment, too?”
She’d given him a look, then, as if she thought he was trying to score an ... [+]

The seventh day in my new flat, I found a worm in the fridge. It was flat, black and dead. I quite like interesting animals, but not this one – it looked remarkably like a leech. Where had it ... [+]

I reached for the control strip and tapped the edit icon. Immediately, the scene changed to a woodland, dark fir trees casting long shadows beneath a heavy winter sky. For background effect, I ... [+]

When there is no water left, we’ll leave. Until then, we ration what we pull from the well. Three-quarters of a bucket for drinking (a full one when the day gets above 90 degrees, which is ... [+]

Distant thunder warned of an approaching storm as the wedding party strolled along the Danube. Budapest’s new National Theatre had indeed been a lavish affair.
“I like that Cyrano only ... [+]

Bag over my shoulder, I turn around once more at the threshold of the crevice: this cave was my last abode. Giving it up is hard, but I don't have time to feel sad: the tide of mist crawls at my ... [+]

My country is not gentle. My country is violent, turbulent, and wild — it's where the earth was born. The moors paved with lava, the waterfalls and rivers of giants, the volcanoes, geysers, and ... [+]

When Eliana returned to the Phoenix Hotel Yogyakarta that night, she imagined that her grandfather’s footsteps on the same floors, in the same hotel, after climbing the same mountain, would have... [+]

"Do you smell that?"

They all looked at each other. No one liked it when Lucien spoke up. Not since the last time. Paul discreetly elbowed his neighbor, urging him to do something. Albert... [+]

There was an old painting in my grandparents' attic. Neither beautiful nor ugly, it simply depicted an empty room with no figures, an old living room with an armchair, library, and fireplace. ... [+]

The stallion pounded the ground with its hooves in a wild gallop, its horsewoman leaning over its neck. With no saddle or bit, the mount flew free, its mane in the wind.
Nighttime enveloped ... [+]