Author

Anatoly Belilovsky

The author was born in a city that changed 6 or 7 owners in the last century, all of whom used it to do a lot more than drive to church on Sundays; it is hosting Euro-2012 soccer championships as he is writing these words. He learned English from Star Trek reruns and went on to become a pediatrician in an area of New York where English is the fourth-most commonly used language. He has neither cats nor dogs, but was admitted into SFWA in spite of this deficiency.

The Widow

Behind her, she heard the rear door splinter. "You're back," she said. "Back from the grave to console the widow?" There were only shuffling noises in the darkness. "I wish I could say it's good to see you," she said. "But I can't. I can't see anything. As you darn well know."…

Scars

It isn't that we blind people get superpowers to compensate; it's that we pay attention. Cliquot '21 really does taste different from '20; a Stradivarius sounds different from an Amati; and when someone I know walks into the Heart of Darkness, I recognize them, and by the number…

Bot and Paid For

The noonday desert sun beat down on Berkowitz, reflections from the GoebBot's shiny carapace blinding him temporarily. Berkowitz lifted his arm to shield his eyes. "Greetings," said the GoebBot. "Are you a member of the Master Race?" "I'm from Kiev," said Berkowitz. "Originally.…

Virror, Virror

She blinked three times to boot her contacts, and braced herself for her double vision to clear, the real and the virtual images to coalesce, but the lag was a fraction of a second this time, much less disorienting than before. "Oh, I love this new upgrade!" she said and watched…

Not To Praise Her

I have some words to say. Some will be new to you, loanwords from her language. Attend, I shall endeavor to explain. She was my adversary. She was my friend. She is dead. "She" is a pronoun that refers to egg-carriers; also possessive "her," noun "woman" and adjective "female."…

Queen of Hearts, Servant of Spades

"I love your hands," she says. Her date lifts their hand from where it covers hers on the tablecloth between them, stares at it briefly. "Funny you should say that. No one ever noticed my hands before." They lower their hand, squeeze hers briefly. "I am a pilot; I guess I need…

Quantum Mechanics

Swear to God, that's what the sign said: Quantum Mechanics. A faded, peeling sign on a rickety garage on a weed-choked lot. I looked out the window from the little Mexican taqueria across the street, and it still said: "Quantum Mechanics." Damn misleading. "What's misleading?"…

Don't Look Down

My body remembers what I cannot. My hands move to the sides, legs move apart, knees bend. A whistling in my ears: wind. It's called wind. I'm flying, flying in the wind, under the blue that's called the sky, toward the brown that's called the ground. I feel it push my hands, my…