Gothic Fantasy. The Lake at Low Tide Every morning, Orren watched the horizon for water. The desert kept no rivers and no lakes, yet at the lowest hour before sunrise the dunes would part. White coral would rise from the sand in pale ribs, and between them a black mirror would...
Magical Realism. The Sleeping Room At the edge of the desert, where the mountains turned the color of old iron, the observatory kept one room below ground for machines that slept. They arrived by freight cart, wrapped in wool against the sand, with cooling pipes trailing behind...
Mythic Fiction. The Cartographer of Vanished Places Ilyra had spent forty years drawing coastlines that no longer existed. She drew them on vellum thin as moth wings, with rivers erased by drought, harbors swallowed by quicksand, and villages whose names had fallen out of every...
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