An e-zine about spaceships, aliens, science, memory, motherhood, magic, and cats.
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Luna Station Quarterly, December 2015
As I brought the mug of fresh-brewed coffee to my lips, the steaming liquid froze solid. Startled by the sudden coldness in my hand, I dropped the mug. The handle broke off when it hit the linoleum floor. To make matters worse, the magic wore off almost instantly, and the mug-shaped block of coffee-ice promptly melted, puddling on the floor. Continue reading “Feral Unicorn”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Untied Shoelaces of the Mind, March 2012
The curved neck and stretched wings of the black Dragon dwarf the figure of the doe-like white Unicorn. They make an unlikely picture behind the glass panel and aluminum frame of my sliding glass kitchen door. As always, quite the sight to see. I ask them in.
by Mary E. Lowd
This is an excerpt from Otters In Space III: Octopus Ascending, a novel published by FurPlanet, June 2017
The pale glow of Jupiter lit the moon’s watery surface. Europa’s recently melted ocean reflected the gas giant’s ruddy face back at itself, broken by ripples where Brighton’s Destiny disturbed the water on takeoff.
The dark metal V-shape of the two-man spaceship skimmed over the ocean before veering upward in a sharp climb out of Europa’s gravity well. Spacesuit clad paws eased off on the throttle, and Brighton’s Destiny leveled off into a smooth arc toward Jupiter. Continue reading “Otters In Space III: Octopus Ascending (Chapter 1)”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Arcana: A Tarot Anthology, November 2017
Diamma’s scaly green tail curled to one side, then the other, swaying uneasily, as she stood in the open hatch of her spaceship. Crystals of pink snow caught in her fiery, leonine mane as the flakes drifted down from the powder blue clouds of this world. Snomoth. For years, it had been a number in the registry on her ship; somewhere she would eventually go. For the last few weeks, it had been a dot of light on the main viewscreen. Now it was a faintly pink snowball, the color of cherry blossoms in the early spring, stretched out before her, waiting to freeze her toes when she stepped down from the hatch.
The final piece of the puzzle might be here, hidden underneath the pale pink snow. Continue reading “The Unification of Worlds”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in The Symbol of a Nation, June 2017
The moon stretched out in front of Jenn like an unhatched egg. Full of possibility. Full of portent. In a few moments, the four pod capsules, including hers, would be ejected from the USS Fledgling, and the final competition would begin. The winner would secure the continuation of their genetic line and be the first live astronaut to Mars. All of them were uplifted birds, designed especially for this purpose, but only one would win. Continue reading “The Moon Like An Unhatched Egg”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Theme of Absence, April 2016
Exhausted, Junie watched her five-year-old daughter and two toddler sons play with Gorvall. They stacked up colored blocks and knocked them down. Gorvall’s long gray fingers helped pry apart the building blocks that stuck together. The colorful towers reflected in his large, teardrop-shaped black eyes.
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Theme of Absence, June 2016
Standing in the hospital lobby, Daniel spread his hands over the shirt covering his flat belly. He tried to imagine the alien life growing inside him, but it didn’t seem real. He didn’t feel any different than he had a week ago.
A couple women walked by Daniel, chatting with each other. The base’s hospital was otherwise quiet at this time of evening. Daniel turned back toward the row of glass doors that led out to the dry, desert air of Eridani Mu, wanting to leave the hospital. The buildings of the human base were under the shadow of twilight now, but the majestic spires of the alien city in the distance were still lit by the pink-and-orange tinged sunset. In only five years since the humans had crashed here, those spires had grown and stretched until they dwarfed the human base. Continue reading “Birthing Class”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Daily Science Fiction, February 2015
Chloe lay on the table in the doctor’s office, wearing a paper sheet over her legs and one of those weird gowns that opened in the back. She didn’t want to be pregnant, but she didn’t want to need an abortion. She couldn’t help thinking about David — it had to be David — and what amazing genes he must have. He’d talked like a character out of a fast-paced TV show, everything clever, insightful, and… much too articulate. Continue reading “FemCloud Inc.”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Anthropomorphic Dreams Podcast, November 2011
When Shreddy was a young cat, he and the Red-Haired Woman lived alone. Shreddy enjoyed his youth and, in later years, he often daydreamed of those days before the Red-Haired Woman declared: “I think I’ll take up a hobby.”
Shreddy wasn’t worried at the time. She’d taken up a hobby before, growing orchids, and he’d found her pastime perfectly delightful. Delectable, even. This time, the Red-Haired Woman decided to grow something that Shreddy couldn’t eat. Continue reading “Shreddy and the Zomb-dogs”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in The Nautilus Engine, July 2008
Shreddy never had a particular taste for fish, but he’d been in a sour mood for days.
The Red-Haired Woman had won their latest skirmish over the orchids. She’d cordoned off the kitchen window with chicken wire. Shreddy rattled the wire, pulling with his claws at the edges. He shoved his face into the few centimeters between wire and wall, wrinkling his nose and squinting his eyes at the discomfort, but the wire didn’t have enough give. Shreddy couldn’t get his head through. Continue reading “The Necromouser”