Frankie Witt crawled out of a stupor and into a hangover. The crust inside his mouth crumbled like a wasps' nest as he puckered. Aghh. Again. Head feels like it's oozing pus. You stumblebum, just die and be done with it. Frankie shambled into the bathroom, drank a glass of off-color water and weaved into... Continue Reading →
He is old, older than anyone I have ever known.
Ultimately, it was the Kingsmen who ferried their marriage to its grave.
Readers! We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming for a special announcement! This month Æther & Ichor are going live! We'll be hosting a spoken word, poetry and music event at Edinburgh's Banshee Labyrinth, on the evening of June 14! The event will be in collaboration with science fiction magazine Shoreline of Infinity, as part of... Continue Reading →
The shaman’s magic was used to strike down enemies and win tribal wars, but the butterfly keeper had something nobler in mind.
There’s somebody else in here, in this house. Someone who shouldn’t be. Someone who can’t be.
Lhai sniffed the water in his trough. Was the poison in there? He couldn’t tell. He cursed, not for the first time, that the Maker had given dragons such a poor sense of smell.
It was 7 a.m. when the dead began to wake, and John had only just finished breakfast.
When light and shade reach a high contrast, the heat burns the weeds, and the pebbles crackle under the soles of the boots of a young ornithologist, his face and arms tanned by a merciless desert sun