An e-zine about spaceships, aliens, science, memory, motherhood, magic, and cats.
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Hot Chocolate for the Unicorn and Other Flights of Fancy
Ever since my fortieth birthday, I’ve been thinking a lot about mortality. What happens when we die? Is there anything waiting for us on the other side of the veil, or is this life all we have? The thoughts catch me when I’m alone; when it’s late at night; or even sometimes right in the middle of a chaotic day, rushing around with my kids on errands. Continue reading “Ginger Tea for the Dragon”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Hot Chocolate for the Unicorn and Other Flights of Fancy
A tiny dragon burrowed into the big toe on my right foot, curled up around the joint, and lives in there now. Well, sleeps there. It seems to sleep all day long, like a cat in a sunbeam. Except, a dragon. In my toe.
Most of the time, I don’t notice it at all. But sometimes, the dragon shifts in its sleep, writhing and rearranging, and I feel all the spines along its back and long, coiling tail scrape and screech against my bones, brightening my foot with pain like lightning forks across the sky. Continue reading “The Dragon in My Toe”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Hot Chocolate for the Unicorn and Other Flights of Fancy, December 2024
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”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Electric Spec, Vol. 14, Issue 1, February 2019
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”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Electric Spec, Vol. 13, Issue 2, May 2018
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”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Hot Chocolate for the Unicorn and Other Flights of Fancy
The Unicorn stretches his snowy neck, leaning his nose down to taste the dark liquid in the mug before him. He’s been blowing on his hot chocolate, quietly nickering, to cool it, but it must be too hot still. He lowers his translucent horn to the surface of the drink. Cold suffuses. With the lightest touch, the chocolate is cool enough to drink.
“Will you tell me a story?” the Unicorn asks. Continue reading “Blaze the Fire Monster”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Hot Chocolate for the Unicorn and Other Flights of Fancy, December 2024
Seven riders on six horsebacks and one mechanical contraption, each of the seven blessed with wings, flew toward the sea.
The horses’ wings were made of tawny feathers, golden when the sun hit them right, downy and angelic. The mechanical contraption’s wings were less wings and more of a spinning rotor in a tarnished shade of silver, held above the rider by a jointed, metal arm, heavy with bolts. It didn’t look air-worthy, but it was. Continue reading “Seven Riders and Six Horses”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Hot Chocolate for the Unicorn and Other Flights of Fancy, December 2024
First, you tear the eyes out, digging your fingertips into the sockets around them, squishing the bulbs to get your fingers under them. They’ll be slippy, and you’ll have to squeeze hard while yanking out, or the eye won’t come.
Once you have the eyeballs pulled out of their sockets, rip quickly to tear them from the gooey threads still connecting them. When they come free, throw them at the floor. Stomp on them with your boot. The heavier the boot, the better. Continue reading “The Dancing Swords”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Aoife’s Kiss, Issue #33, June 2010
The shore bubbled and frothed under Bryen’s sotto voce chanting. His hands trembled, conducting currents in the air, and he squinted his eyes tight.
“Knock it off!” Charles yelled at his brother. “How will I ever get a fish to bite if you keep that up?” He kept preparing the boat as he grumbled. “Bunch of rubbish,” he said. “Scares all the decent fish away.” Continue reading “The Third Wish”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Animal Voices, Unicorn Whispers, October 2024
[Part 1]
Alone in his boat on a clear sea in the glow of early afternoon, Elijah found he could almost believe the whole morning had been a daydream, perhaps caused by nibbling on a psychotropic jellyfish tentacle. Were there jellyfish whose flesh could cause such hallucinations? Elijah wasn’t sure, but perhaps one of his mothers would know. As he sailed onward toward home though, he realized: there were still two sacks of nut-butter sandwiches and joiberries in the boat with him, and that was hard, physical evidence that he had met with someone out here on the sea this morning. Continue reading “Treegadoon – Part 2”