Author
Megan Arkenberg
Babel
O tower not of ivory, but builded by hands that reach Heaven from Hell. --Algernon Charles Swinburne Some nights, when I grow weary of lying awake and listening to the incomprehensible murmuring of the world, I leave the city sleeping in its withered gardens and go to the ruins…
Cafe Macondo
The scanner bips and gives a four-note ascending scale of disapproval. Item not found. I look at the package in my hand. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but this coffee's not in our system. It's from an alternate dimension's grocery store." Her lips make a smacking sound like a magnetic coin…
Through Dry Places, Seeking Rest
After sunset, my reflection appears in the black depths of the kitchen window, thin and pale and drunk. The ruins of the gas station are burning in the hills, a sheet of wet gold floating on my chest. I can almost smell the smoke. My eyebrows are dark and straight with frowning,…