CR Colby

Aug 9, 2023 | strangehorizons.com | Debbie Gascoyne |Diana C Dima |CR Colby |Angela Liu

Reading an anthology of academic essays that explores a topic of interest—in this case fantasy authors’ abiding interest in “Celticism”—is rather like attending a really good conference, but without either the anxiety of presenting a paper yourself or having to make agonizing decisions about which panels to attend.

Aug 8, 2023 | strangehorizons.com | Jenny Hamilton |Diana C Dima |CR Colby |Angela Liu

The Shamshine Blind envisions an alternate history in which Argentina won the Falklands War, a shift that might seem relatively unmomentous on the global scale, except that they won it by inventing, and then cornering the market on, a technology whereby specific types of dye induce specific emotions. Cerulean induces debilitating guilt; Slate Grey stops you from caring about anything, including your own safety; Deep Blue wipes your memory.

Aug 8, 2023 | strangehorizons.com | Diana C Dima |CR Colby |Angela Liu |Jenny Hamilton

Long before you came along, I was myself just a seed in Raffa’s pocket, something she fumbled with as she stepped on the plane, her other hand clutching her mother’s. Small as I was, I sensed her fear. I tried to hum reassuringly. Above the ocean, I helped her fall asleep. She planted me soon after landing, behind the park by a graffitied wall hidden from view by maple trees. She seemed half ashamed, yet she came every day to water me and sit beside me.

Aug 8, 2023 | strangehorizons.com | Angela Liu |Diana C Dima |CR Colby |Jenny Hamilton

They’re everywhereIf you doomscroll your wayto the wrong hall, click yourself into a dusty oldred room that asks for a name but never a facethey are there. The dark patterns are a double slit boxthat exists to be seen and unseen, an overexcited field of possibilityRogue simulationsthat wreak chaos on an unsuspecting body.

Aug 8, 2023 | strangehorizons.com | CR Colby |Diana C Dima |Angela Liu |Jenny Hamilton

The road bent me over put Gravel in the folded over cuffs of my Jeans so it’s a good thing that I don’t walk The road it’s a good thing I just drive In the back I’ve got everything I Need I’ve got speakers and amps and my electric girl which I Dove through glass to pull from the hands of a corpse Who didn’t know the notes anyhow Until the gasoline burns low until the fucking sun explodes Chromium pylon radio tower singing dead frequencies My angel with one red eye Let me come in under your...