There were two figures in the stinking, airless cell but Davy Jones had only come for one of them. In her turn, the first paid him no more mind than she did the rat in the corner. The second, the one whose soul he’d come for, was otherwise occupied, lying swollen-bellied and gasping on the …

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There was once a girl who was raised by wolves. The girl-wolf did not know how she came to be raised by wolves, nor did the huntsman who found her in the middle of a dark wood covered in dirt and mud. The girl-wolf did not know it was wrong to be raised by wolves, …

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When they grew old, and he could no longer rise from his bed, she asked him, “What can I get for you?” The skin around his eyes wrinkled when he smiled, but the eyes themselves shone bright as ever. “I don’t need any kind of thing,” he said, squeezing her fingers. She cupped her hands …

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No door in the castle was closed to the queen. She could go wherever she wished, open any cupboard, peep into any chest.  Nothing was secret, nothing was hidden. We are living in lucky times, her old nurse said. The old nurse was also the queen’s third cousin, and had been her first tutor in …

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“The air is cleaner,” Marion says to her husband, trying not to let her irritation show. “It’ll be better for the baby.” “I guess,” James says, rubbing thoughtfully at his chin. “But what about Owen? He’s about to start high school–it doesn’t seem fair to take him away from his friends.” He looks to Owen’s …

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I didn’t know about the family of ghosts living in my apartment until after the landlord gave me the key. I thought I’d gotten a deal. The place was old, sure, and small, definitely, but it was my first apartment in the city, and the view from the fire escape was impeccable. Then three of my …

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I had a premonition that night, but my sisters laughed and scolded me. “Don’t be such a baby,” they said. “You’re lucky we take you with us. Not every girl your age gets to dance all night.” It was hard being thirteen, and the youngest  of twelve daughters. I tagged along, trying to stay out …

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I don’t believe in ghosts. Especially now that I am one. Believe me, I’ve looked. When I became one, I was fully prepared to see them.  Them, or angels, or some sort of bodiless entity encapsulating a soul. And when I didn’t? Well, let’s just say I was delighted. Disembodiment is pretty damn delicious, especially …

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I wake to see Thisbe, mother’s cat, poking a paw through the highest window of the tree trunk. She hasn’t noticed me, watching her, and I lie still against the crumpled pillow as she angles her shoulder, pushing her paw deeper until her whole foreleg is inside, flexing to swipe. There’s a scrabble as she knocks …

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