Shadow Hands pull off my limbs, gently—methodically. They stack my arms and legs. Toes and fingers face away from me in elegant precision.
But moonlight illuminates a scar from before I can remember, reminding me the foot is mine.
I should want to cry. Morning comes before I can.
Stephanie Jones works as editor of New Jersey Teachers Magazine and features writer at Hot House Jazz Guide and JazzSpeaks.org. When time permits, she hosts a podcast called “After the Call.” Jones graduated from Wellesley College having studied with Frank Bidart and Alicia Erian, and earned her BFA in Jazz Performance from The City College of New York.
Today I slaughtered my other self in the mirror. I felt his pain as my own.
One of us was laughing, while the other was crying.
Stealing the light that enriched his eager eyes left me alone in darkness.
I don’t know which side of the glass I was on.
P.A.’s love for the fantasy genre started as a child. He connected his modem to another computer or Bulletin Board Service (BBS) to play a text-based fantasy game called MajorMUD. Along with reading Robert Asprin and painting D&D miniatures, his childhood was spent trading reality for the magical places inside his head. Now he’s put one of those places on the page. See more on his website.
The two of them sat beside each other on his old couch, where they’d agreed to meet. There was a space between them that could fit a third person.
“Can you truly understand how your mind works?” he asked.
“You are your mind,” she replied.
This made him feel worse.
Jordan Moffatt is a writer and improviser living in Ottawa. He performs improv with the Bad Dog Theatre Company and Crush Improv. His writing has been featured in many places online, including The Big Jewel, Broken Pencil, and The Reject Pile, with work forthcoming in The Feathertale Review. He is a founding editor of the online humour magazine Vandercave.
I stood there looking at her. Sad, exhausted, broken, and alone. A look in her eyes that shimmered off a reflection of regret.
I tried to look away, but couldn’t convince myself. I moved in a little closer to the mirror. I couldn’t resist.
Was this really what I’d become?
Tricia Parker wrote this story.
For her, each day dissolves into the next, like a sugar cube in hot water. Instinctively she clings, grabs, and clutches to the remains of her earlier self. Memories assemble in a dense haze of déjà vu.
Little-by-little, piece-by-piece, bit-by-bit she forfeits what made her sweet and solid. She dissipates.
Stephanie Glover is a professional juggler. Just kidding. Not a literal juggler, but she does juggle in the figurative sense. Stephanie is a full time student, employee, mother, and wife. In addition, she pursues her passions of writing and photography. Most often she can be found planting idea seeds in the little book she carries in her purse, or releasing the shutter on her beloved camera.