Astynome, After, by Mike Allen

The Fates persist in fractal layers,the tapestry they weave spreads fingers, grips skeinsthe work itself a weaver,that winds yet another copythrough the warp, piling colorsuntil the shuttle gives riseto coils of minute artisans, who wind the reverse sidesof countless lives until the scene that draws me out arrives, threading stone and flesh, kings, priests and …

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Shuck by G.V. Anderson

No one, not even Bridget, could remember how it started, and yet by the winter term, it was common knowledge that she’d taken over the old smoking area and, for a price, would answer one—just one—question about the death of her friend, Samantha. Year Nines were especially bloodthirsty. Balancing on the threshold between childhood and …

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