No Kings Among Rats

“The waters are rising,” said the god of corners. “Either your king will die. Or you will.”

Her many tails rippled behind her, vanishing first. The rainfall that soaked the rats scurrying about in preparation to save their king did not touch her gleaming black fur, or drip from her long silver whiskers.

Her head vanished last, lips still curled in a curious smile. She had not gone. She was only invisible.

She would stay and watch.

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The Red Path to the Gray Cabin

The back of the closet seemed to lead onto a dirt road with a very much open sky above, a sky that looked overcast. Simone felt a chill coming from that direction, but that could be explained by an air conditioning vent.

Simone put her sneakers back on—Evie had insisted she take her shoes off before entering the house. Then she stepped forward and kicked at road, sending out a spray of dirt and tiny pebbles. Some of the reddish dust stuck the front of her sneakers.

Evie stood behind her. “This is like that wardrobe in—”

“Don’t say it.”

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The Swallow Who Was a Willow

The swallow was a happy bird, but also somewhat superior.  Nothing brought her joy the way flying did.  Slicing through the clouds and flicking the air with the perfect points of her tail.  She believed that birds were the supreme creatures of the world.  Because they could fly.  Some insects could fly as well, of course.  But birds could fly higher, faster, and farther than any insect.

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The Station Companions

Andrew saw it first.  About a month into our six-month rotation maintaining the company’s Arctic monitoring station.  He was doing weekly maintenance on all the pumps on the north side when he thought he saw some motion.  At first, he thought he’d just imagined something. 

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