Author: marylowd

Sister Ghost

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Hot Chocolate for the Unicorn and Other Flights of Fancy, December 2024

“There’s a vagueness in her eyes like maybe the rest of the world looks as shimmery and translucent to her as she looks to me.”

They say that Hot Lake Hotel is haunted, but the shimmer of bluish light in the corner of my room wasn’t waiting for me when I arrived.  She came with me.  She’s been following me all of my life.  Almost all of my life.

I close the door to my room — lucky number 113 — behind me and gratefully pull off the face mask I still wear everywhere.  I know that most people have moved on from the pandemic, but between my rattly joints and asthmatic breathing, the last thing I need is to roll the dice on long Covid.  So, I still mask up when I go out. Continue reading “Sister Ghost”

When He Stopped Crying

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Electric Spec, Vol. 14, Issue 1, February 2019

“Karyanne looked down at the changeling finally.”

Karyanne knew right away when the fae replaced her son.  The baby had been crying days straight, since he was born.  Karyanne didn’t even know how long that was.  She woke to darkness.  She woke to brittle morning light.  She woke to darkness.  She woke to full, ripe, afternoon light slanting through the venetian blinds.  It was all the same.  It was all baby screams, and her eyes glued shut from tears and exhaustion, and the back of her head hurting, and her body aching all over. Continue reading “When He Stopped Crying”

Spoiler Warning

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Hot Chocolate for the Unicorn and Other Flights of Fancy, December 2024

“SPOILER WARNING: the werewolf commune turns out to be a bunch of flowers-in-their-hair, tree-hugging hippies.”

SPOILER WARNING:  Denise is not the killer.

When a series of people are brutally murdered and gnawed on, inconveniently one full moon after Denise is first bitten by that wolf, it will LOOK like she’s the killer.  And it will be heartbreaking, because she’s just so awkward, nerdy, and sweet.  But don’t give up.  Keep watching.  It’s not her. Continue reading “Spoiler Warning”

Eight Ways

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Theme of Absence, September 2021

“…the silhouette wasn’t moving right. Not like Blake. Not like a person at all.”

Blake had heard octopuses were smart, but it was hard to believe, looking at the blurring mass of muscle.  He scooped the hand net into the cold water of the storage cell, like a plastic tub set into the deck of his small fishing boat.  Tentacles writhed in a squirming reddish brown mass below.  He couldn’t even make out a single individual creature in there.  Just limbs.  Squishy, slippery limbs. Continue reading “Eight Ways”

Safe Here in Crest City

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Kaleidotrope, October 2022

“OH NO ZOMBIES CAN USE TWEETER NOW”

@UnicornGirl231:  O MUH GOD i jus saw a zombie eating sumone’s arm and the ARM FELL OFF  #zombiesarereal #zombiesarehere #evenincrestcity

@KarenCane:  You’re in Crest City?  How do you know it was a zombie?

@LiteralGhost1:  Is the zombie virus airborn?  Will a mask protect me? Do I need to hold my breath around zombies?  Maybe I’ll just stay inside… Continue reading “Safe Here in Crest City”

The Prehistory Zoo

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally serialized in Daily Science Fiction, November/December 2022

“If her fate was behind those bars with teeth like swords, at least, she could try to make friends with it.”

Part 1: Comfort Animal

The wide timber frame arch rose high above Dr. Miriam Loxley’s head, presaging the size of the animals kept in the enclosure.  All the movies, books, and games came rushing back to her — she’d grown up with the Jurassic Park franchise. She knew all of the paleontologists and geneticists involved in The Prehistory Zoo had too.  Somehow, they’d taken those stories as a siren’s call, instead of heeding them as a warning. Continue reading “The Prehistory Zoo”

The Blood Portal

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Electric Spec, Vol. 13, Issue 2, May 2018

“So Hanna summoned every bit of her own magic, pulling on the gravity fields and folds around her, feeling out the architecture of space.”

Hanna steered the spaceship with one arm, punching buttons, turning knobs, and flipping switches.  Her other arm was wrapped tightly around her young son.  His face was buried against her shoulder.  He wasn’t crying any more.  His breathing had stilled.  He was sleeping, but he still clung to her with his arms and legs that seemed so long and gangly compared to when he was a baby. Continue reading “The Blood Portal”