Tag: AI art

Sarah Flowermane and the Unicorn

by Mary E. Lowd

A Deep Sky Anchor Original, September 2022

“I want to grow a mane,” Sarah stated simply. “A mane of flowers. I know you have magic. Can you help me?”

The lion cub hid among the rushes and narcissus flowers at the edge of the lake and watched her father, King of the Jungle, meet and talk with the shining white unicorn who presided over the deep dark woods adjacent to the lions’ sunny savannah home.

Sarah thought the unicorn’s forest looked more like a jungle than their savannah did, and she wanted to tell the unicorn that… but she’d promised her father to hide quietly during his meeting.  He only brought one cub with him at a time to these meetings, and given her plethora of sisters, brothers, half-siblings, and cousins, Sarah’s turn to accompany her father didn’t turn up very often.  She wanted to prove she could be a good little cub, so she stayed quiet as a mouse. Continue reading “Sarah Flowermane and the Unicorn”

The Otter’s Mermaid

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Furry Trash, December 2018

“He wanted Angelica always by his side, and that meant she would need to walk on land. Arlow would build his mermaid legs.”

The air turned salty in Arlow’s whiskers as he pedaled his watercycle out of the shade and protection of the thick rainforest trees.  He squinted down the river, but he couldn’t see the ocean yet.  The river curved around rolling grass knolls and disappeared behind a thicket of coastal brush.  Arlow pedaled harder with all four paws and felt the cool water slip even faster around his body, pressing his clothes against his fur. Continue reading “The Otter’s Mermaid”

The Were-Raptor and the Seamstress Robot

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Daily Science Fiction, July 2020

“”You only get one wish,” the genie said. “You touched my lamp at the exact same time, so you have to share it.””

Angie and Tyler’s hands touched the green-gold brass of the magic lamp at the same time.  The metal was slick with creek water, and they had to dig away the mud and wet moss that had half buried the lamp using their bare hands.  Their fingers smeared the mud, leaving their hands and the lamp dirty.  Someone must have thrown it into this creek, deep in the woods, years ago. Continue reading “The Were-Raptor and the Seamstress Robot”

The Crowds on Crossroads Station

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Daily Science Fiction, July 2017

“He knew he’d out-stepped his place, but he was suddenly very excited about seeing the insides of Crossroads Station.”

Roscoe’s velvety nose twitched, but his long ears stood tall in spite of his jittery nerves.  The view of Crossroads Station on the viewscreen was intimidating:  three concentric wheels, rotating in alternating directions, each one lined with row after row of glowing windows.  Shuttle pods and star cruisers of all designs were docked on the outer ring. Continue reading “The Crowds on Crossroads Station”

Midjourney Illustrates Feelings

My kid was trying to get up the courage to ask their teacher for help with something, so I asked Midjourney to “imagine courage,” so I could send them some courage. This is what I got:

The kid’s teacher was busy with another student, so I asked Midjourney to “imagine patience,” so I could send some patience along to them as well. Continue reading “Midjourney Illustrates Feelings”

Inalienable Rights

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Daily Science Fiction, August 2017

“With a nervous twitch of his nose, Roscoe opened a communication channel to the planet below…”

Roscoe’s long ears would not stand tall, no matter how he strained to hold them up.  His reflection in the empty viewscreen looked haggard and scared, but he’d stared at it for long enough trying to compose himself.  He would never be composed.  He had to proceed anyway.

With a nervous twitch of his nose, Roscoe opened a communication channel to the planet below, and moments later, a familiar face filled the viewscreen:  his cousin Chilchi.  Her ears stood tall. Continue reading “Inalienable Rights”

Necessary as a Rose

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Kaleidotrope, January 2020

“Because when there’s something fragile but wonderful to tend to, something that needs you, something that you can watch grow and blossom… It’s easier to survive the darkness outside.”

Sleek and silver, your spaceship sliced through the darkness of space.  Cold, mechanical, everything a rocket needed to be to survive the harshness of vacuum and background radiation and simply the crushing depression of being totally isolated in the middle of a vast nothingness.

But inside.

Yes inside, a bubble of warmth and life support.  Oxygen, nitrogen, puffy gases expanding out to fill the mechanical shell.  All those good ingredients that let humans breathe.  And dogs breathe.  And cats breathe. Continue reading “Necessary as a Rose”

Paper Horn

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Daily Science Fiction, September 2020

“”I don’t think she’d love me even if I was a real unicorn,” Tulip said.”

The paper cone I’d taped together from an old piece of algebra homework slipped off the pony’s forehead and landed in the clover at her hooved feet.  Mallory laughed derisively and said, “What were you trying to do?  Play unicorn?”

The pony, Tulip, turned her head away, abashed, but she didn’t say anything.  I couldn’t believe Mallory was lucky enough — and rich enough — to be given a real Smart Pony for her birthday, and still stupid enough to treat that pony like trash. Continue reading “Paper Horn”

The Pink Agate

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Daily Science Fiction, September 2018

“…when told to pick an agate to represent her in the mosaic, the little lizard girl had picked the pinkest, warmest looking stone of them all. A warm stone to represent a cold-blooded child.”

Clori, a koala-like woman, twisted wires about the pink and white agate in her paws, bending the delicate silver strands carefully with her claws.  When she was done, the heart-shaped stone’s wavy lines were cradled in a net of silver that she hung from the mosaic of agates — each one collected by one of her adopted children. Continue reading “The Pink Agate”