Masika sat in her apartment, cowed by the gloom and dirty-gray walls. That old fashioned clock in the kitchen was ticking so loudly it scraped at her nerves. Her fingers itched to rip it down. Her toes curled into the fabric of her couch. She pondered the problem, biting the nail of her thumb, all the way down to the nub.
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Tightrope Cat
Gatherer
At first, it didn’t seem so strange, waking up by the sea. I thought I’d simply fallen asleep after my usual swim again. The damp sand was itchy, crackled bits of seashells were cutting into my skin. I was tired to the bone, so I didn’t mind that too much. Waves were idly lapping at my toes. There was a nice breeze rolling over the water.
Sweet Belladonna
Capella: the tiny planet languishing in the soft crimson glow of her dying star had been a late bloomer, coaxed into habitability by human colonists only a few centuries earlier. The tiny body was nestled among a dusty smattering of moons and asteroids that awkwardly wobbled along the outer edges of the Magellanic Spiral. Cappella boasted no major goods or tourist attractions, and was more often overlooked than not, by most respectable commercial enterprises throughout the known worlds.



The right person makes your head spin. Stars collide...

