April 2012

New Phantasma…

Lot by Ben Godby

One day, a peasant, a warrior, a merchant and a priest appeared before the Angel of Death. “Tell me about yourselves,” said the Angel.

The Comeback by Nick Tramdack

I will say it again, Jaquel. Burn this letter now before you read another word.

Moonman by Kristine Ong Muslim

Following the direction of Billy’s frightened gaze, I saw it: a white face with what looked like holes lurking sparsely on its surface.

Biodyssey by S. Decoteaux Bates

A wave rises beneath you, lifting the boat. You embark on the eve of the spring equinox.

Lalla Rooke by John Gerald Fagan

The Americans, the Chinese and the Russians had plans of their own, but the Tasmanians were the first to act and sent Tex up in a tiny space shuttle three months ahead of schedule.

Border Patrol by Rachel Ayers

Adam and María had twelve hours together after dropping the skiff into orbit.

March 2012

New Phantasma…

Ten Tumors by Gregg Winkler

The children’s cries bounced around the house, then, before long they were running through the front room again, screaming and wailing. Sandia laughed with them, holding up her hands at them, “Please, children, you’re going to wake the — ”

But it was too late.

A Family Tale by Ryan Rubai

When we were eight, we overheard our mother and father talking about us, in the kitchen. Gregory, we need to get rid of them, mother said.

Dearest Son by Graeme Penman

First and foremost, always wear your hat.

Dad by Jonathan Bird

His disapproving sneer simply lit up the room and made every occasion just what it should be.

The Burden of Gender by Abha Iyengar

But the scourge had changed her, too. She did not bear only one child as her mother had done. The next birth had been of twins, then of quadruplets, then eight kids. Each successive time, the number of babies conceived doubled. Each successive time, the babies were male, no girls were born.

And one more story, Winter Baby by Anna Caro

It was on one of these nights, when Jasleen was asleep with my arm loosely round her shoulders, that I saw the ghosts in summer for the first time.

February 2012

New Phantasma…

Deianira by J. M. McDermott

I didn’t run. I stopped and stared. It had an ancient eye, and some of its branches were tentacles. It was camouflaged as a fallen tree, but it was something older than a tree.

Four Parties by R. J. Astruc

“Zeus, Hera, Aphrodite, they’re lost in their own age. They aren’t here in the here-and-now and maybe they never were. They never learnt to move with the times. Follow the zeitgeist, it’s always been my motto. Old gods should learn new tricks, don’t you think?”

Out Late by Janet Shell Anderson

She comes out of an alley. I can’t believe it. I know it’s her the way you know who someone is in a dream, but this is no dream.

Heaven? Can’t Wait by Mark Lawton

I didn’t swear once while I waited in heaven for my funeral. I probably would have stayed straight through if Jack hadn’t said “Dude you gotta go to your own funeral. If you don’t, you’ll regret it for the rest of your dead life.”

Acts of God and Other Lies by Mark Berryhill

God sat there, purposefully ignoring us, obviously embarrassed. You know how sometimes you do something stupid and you just want to disappear? I think he was doing that.

March 2011

New Phantasma…

And, the Bride Wore Ashes  by Cate Gardner

Maud found the snow globe on the floor of the hotel foyer. Ash cascaded over the bride and groom glued within. It appeared someone had just shaken the globe and yet, as far as Maud could see the foyer was empty.

Little Blue Planet by Shaun Duke

“Bipedal. Stage four intelligence. Feeds show a high probability of self-destruction. Heavy focus on weaponry. I’d estimate a requirement of one million ground troops or a forty-eight hour aerial bombardment. Sixty-percent chance of failure for clean sweep. Bombardment would decimate fifty-percent of available resources.”

Kaleidoscopic Vision by Abha Iyengar

Mithuna saw the god, resplendent and blue, throwing his golden light. It was like sunshine in the frosty cold surrounds. Shiva heated up the place with his presence, more so because he was angry now. Mithuna began to smile, his lips bleeding and dry, the skin like cracked badam shells.

Night Terrors by Samuel Mae

Never have I plumbed depths so vulgar as I did that night on the dark streets of Istanbul, a young man in search of meaning but lacking wit. I found myself in an alley that smelled of dung and spice and ochre, at the behest of a woman with no face but every expression….

How We Left The Desert by R.J. Astruc

It was obvious to me at once that the statues had moved. On our arrival I had observed that most had fallen from their plinths, their extremities shattered; now all were upright and in position, their heads intact, their surfaces unstained, their sightless stone eyes gazing solemnly down the central aisle.

And The Thirteenth Stranger, poetry by Kristine Ong Muslim

a pretty little thing, not even supposed to exist in four dimensions….

December 2010

New Phantasma…

Love in the Time of the Serpent King by RJ Astruc

She lays her tusked head on the ground and I climb onto her back, curling my fingers around the horns of bone that jutt from her ribs. My doomed cell-mates do not stir. The deev spreads her great wings and around us the cell walls and ceiling melt away. Above us I see a hole in the palace roof and through it stars. “Come with me, Rahaeb Reyad,” says Jahazan, “and don’t look back.”

The Keeper of Promises by Abha Iyengar

Marushi, the bird, with his blue beak, yellow head and bright orange plumage, his red breast adorned with black dots that shone like live coals when the sun fell on them, watched the young fifteen year old girl, Ramlu, as she danced on the hot, deserted road.

The Fox by Richard Beland

He was a hard man, a seasoned pirate who earned every bit of his notoriety. It was always a mystery how he acquired his nickname or his peg leg. How many fell beneath his sword is unknown, nor how many hearts his dagger pierced.

Echo of the Invisible World by Shelly Li

From across the desk, Connor Richardson’s gaze darted from his father to the tall foreign being standing next to him, lingering on this ambassador for just a fleeting moment before returning his eyes to his father. So this was who his father had dedicated his career, his life to. A giant preying mantis of a being who stood gaping at him, as if he were a strange specimen in a jar.

Sasquatch by Hugh Fox

They were obviously tracking us down. Roles were reversed…and they’d wear us down before we’d ever wear them down. They were ‘home,’ after all….