An e-zine about spaceships, aliens, science, memory, motherhood, magic, and cats.
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Fantasia Divinity, Issue 9, April 2017
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”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in The Daily Grind, April 2019
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.”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Anthropomorphic Dreams Podcast, AD 049, December 2012
Everything was going wrong this Christmas, and the dogs were too stupid to care.
Usually, after the Feast of the Giant Bird, Shreddy and the dogs were given table scraps to eat. As a cat and a mediocre hunter, Shreddy relished the chance to taste the flesh of an avian larger than himself. He looked forward to it all year. Thus, he watched in utter horror as one of the Red-Haired Woman’s dinner guests scraped all the plates off into the trash. No taste of turkey this year. Continue reading “Shreddy and the Christmas Ghost”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Sorcerous Signals, February 2014
The carousel turned, and Artie watched the ponies go by. He shifted his weight as he sat on the green, metal frame bench. It was one of many around the edges of the giant, window-walled room that housed the carousel. Artie was beginning to think that he should upgrade the benches. These ones looked nice, but they weren’t easy on an old man’s back. Continue reading “The Carousel of Spirits”