Tag: AI art

Memory Sprites

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Fantasia Divinity Magazine, Issue 5, December 2016

“Lights dance behind the trees, coming closer, until the glowing figures of six childlike sprites form in the darkness.”

Camping with my sister Phyllis feels like a cargo cult.  If she hikes into Uncle Mark’s forest, stakes out a tent in the dirt, cooks instant stuffing on a propane stove, and toasts hot dogs on sticks, then she believes the happiness of childhood will come flooding back.  But all I see is a sadly empty camp site.  There are no cousins climbing trees, rock-hopping across the river, or searching for frogs — they’re all grown up and scattered across the country.  Hell, Erika lives in Australia.  Instead of aunts and uncles laughing over a lively game of Brain-Dead Bridge around the campfire, it’s just me, Phyllis, and her travel backgammon set. Continue reading “Memory Sprites”

Missing: Friendly Spook

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Fantasia Divinity, Issue 9, April 2017

“At night, I wander the neighborhood, watching for feline-shaped shimmers and am disappointed every time I see one, only to realize the shadowy figure is opaque, solid, alive.”

I wake up in a cold sweat, but nothing is wrong.  There is no supernatural wailing; no undead yowling; no eerie scratching at my door.  Not even an unsettling purr.  All is silence.  As it has been, for the last several nights.  I wrack my memory, but I can’t recall how long it’s been since I heard Cassie, carousing in the dark, haunting my house and keeping me awake. Continue reading “Missing: Friendly Spook”

Ecto-Cafe

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in The Daily Grind, April 2019

“Doggonit. No pastries today. They were all possessed.”

Sunny reached for the strap of her ecto-pack, but before she could pull the bulky piece of technology out of the sedan’s hatchback, an imperious feline voice rang out from the driver’s seat:  “What do you think you’re doing?”

Sunny mumbled something about gearing up, but Ripley, the small white cat who was the de facto leader of the Ecto-Busters, cut the yellow lab off.  “You don’t need an ecto-pack to run into a cafe and pick up a quick snack.”

Continue reading “Ecto-Cafe”

When the Ghost of the Future Catches Up

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Fantasia Divinity Magazine, Issue 20, March 2018

“Behind the unicorn and her demon-rider, the portal poured forth spirits and ghosts who’d been chasing them for eons across the vastness of space. All of them displaced. All of them homeless.”

The harsh blue light of Astralis II shone over the horizon, casting long shadows at an acute angle to the shorter shadows cast by the tawny, warm light of Astralis I, nearly overhead at this hour of noon-night.  The longest, sharpest shadow pointed towards the volcanic cone of Mount Kiyaro; it was cast by the pearlescent, spiraling horn that rose from Elliae’s snowy-furred equine brow.  She faced the mountain; she faced her destiny. Continue reading “When the Ghost of the Future Catches Up”

The Promise of New Heffe

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Exploring New Places, July 2018

“Her people had lived in borrowed, rented corners of human space stations for Jeaunia’s entire adult life. Finally, they would have a world of their own.”

The evacuation of Heffe VIII occurred when Jeaunia was only a pup.  Her memories of waiting in the long lines on the hot spaceport tarmac were dim.  She did remember playing games with her cousins on the crowded flight to Crossroads Station afterward, and she thought she could remember the view of the swollen Heffen sun through the spaceship’s rear windows.  She couldn’t be sure, though.  The bloody smear of red giant sunlight in her memories could have been a fabrication.  She had been very young. Continue reading “The Promise of New Heffe”

Shreddy and the Silver Egg

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Tales from the Guild: Music to Your Ears, September 2014

“…he, of course, would not care for the baby that hatched from this egg. No, he would eat it!”

There is nothing better than a patch of early evening sunlight, especially with the quiet strains of an opera playing on the Red-Haired Woman’s television in the other room.  There is nothing worse than watching an uncouth dog, lolling unappreciatively, in the single square of sun left on the kitchen floor, insensible to both the golden warmth and the soft singing in the distance.

Continue reading “Shreddy and the Silver Egg”

An Aldebaran Sugar Cookie for Star Shaker

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Fantasia Divinity Magazine, May 2017

“Chirri wanted to give her hero something, as a kind of thank you. She dug one of the cookies out of her bag; it was star-shaped and glittered with grains of Aldebaran sugar.”

The asteroid amphitheater rocked with applause as the suspended final note of Star Shaker’s encore vibrated the atmo-bubble over everyone’s heads.  The reptilian pop-star bowed and spotlights shone off of her rainbow-colored scales, making her glitter like the stars all around.

Chirri had loved Star Shaker’s music since she was a little kitten.  Once, she’d even shaved off her fur and drawn little Vs all over her naked skin, hoping they’d make her look like she had scales.  It had looked awful, but she’d been too young to care.  All she knew was that it had made her feel closer to her hero. Continue reading “An Aldebaran Sugar Cookie for Star Shaker”

Feral Unicorn

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Luna Station Quarterly, December 2015

“The snowy whiteness of his fur and the pearlescent shine of his horn bespoke purity, but I could swear the bastard was glaring at me.”

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”

The Moon Like An Unhatched Egg

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in The Symbol of a Nation, June 2017

“Jenn tried not to think about the cardinal and the bluebird, the seagull and the peacock — all of them gossiping and judging her. She knew they all expected Kiley the bald eagle to win.”

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”

Shreddy and the Zomb-dogs

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Anthropomorphic Dreams Podcast, November 2011

“Glowing eyes looked into the night, and what Shreddy saw made his fur stand straight on end. Puppies rose from their graves.”

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”