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Our Memories Are What We Fear Most (Full Text)
Sarah SalcedoOnce upon a time, when I was mortal, I tattooed the names of my loved ones on my body. Their names were lettered in tiny script, connected by faint dotted lines—constellations to navigate the passing of time and the orientation of my heart. It had begun with my sister, Frances, on a drunken road trip […]
Our Memories Are What We Fear Most PT 2
Sarah SalcedoRead Part 1 MB 2397/8/10/s “THE BATTLE OF WOLVES” Screaming. Plunging into this memory takes us from silence to chaos. Concussive explosions ricochet through the amber atmosphere of the mining camp. The bombs split open on our repulsion shield, residual energy from the blast sizzling across the dome as it’s absorbed back into the structure, […]
Say the Right Thing
Genevieve AbravanelSecond Place Winner of Voyage’s Best Chapters Contest judged by NYT Bestselling Author Soman Chainani . CHAPTER TWELVE “The green tea-macchiato ice cream,” I say, “with cherries.” “That sounds ridiculous.” Raj flashes me a grin. “Can I have some?” “You want me to share my ice cream?” My eyebrows lift, and I hope my tone […]
Our Memories Are What We Fear Most (Pt 1)
Sarah SalcedoOnce upon a time, when I was mortal, I tattooed the names of my loved ones on my body. Their names were lettered in tiny script, connected by faint dotted lines—constellations to navigate the passing of time and the orientation of my heart. It had begun with my sister, Frances, on a drunken road trip […]
The Mechanical Turk Has a Panic Attack
Francis BassGab gripped her right wrist with her left hand at the small of her back. “Are we ready to order?” she asked. The couple set their menus down on the brushed steel tabletop. It wobbled slightly. The man asked, “What’s on the cheese board?” “The SEASONAL CHEESEBOARD is a selection of the best the Delaware […]
To Have but Slumbered
Christina KannI opened my eyes and beheld a face I knew from long ago. Like a dream, I’d mostly forgotten. It was dark outside. In contrast, the lantern’s light was painful to look at. So were his eyes, illuminated brightly against his pallid skin. He was more worn than I remembered; ashen, faded, lined. He’d been […]