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- What the Thunder Said
-
Strange Horizons, April 2007
- Mr. Nine sat in the shade of the
baobab tree, his blanket of warez spread before him on the sand. He
watched the mzungu girl walk up from the small cluster of bamboo
huts on the beach...
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- Burial of the Dead
- Chizine, Jan-Mar 2007
- My room faced on to the Rejang
Baleh, and I sat on the small veranda and drank gin and tonic with
no ice and watched the boats go past. I shuffled a pack of bicycle
cards; my hands left wet imprints on the paper. And I thought, the
merchant is late.
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- 304, Adolf Hitler Strasse
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Clarkesworld
Magazine, October 2006
- When they came for him it was not
at night but in the middle of the afternoon, and the two women came
quiet and with no warning, with just a polite knock on the door...
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- Revolution Time
-
Flurb, issue #2,
Winter 2006-2007
- It was night when we set out to
capture the time machine.
It ends in daylight though, and begins... it begins sometime in the
middle of the day, when the sun beats down on your skin and you
suddenly realise how close the desert is to Hope...
- High Windows
-
Strange Horizons,
October 2006
- Akal the flower-seller’s beard
was a dark cloud of coffee streaked with cream. He was a Sikh, and
Ganymede born and bred. As he handed me the flowers I saw his thumb,
a gold and beautiful prosthetic: his Other, prominently displayed...
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Excerpts from The
Traveller's Guide to the Lake Nyassa Region
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Trabuco Road, TBA
- Tyler arrived in Blantyre late
at night at the back of an open bakkie driven at speed from the
Mozambiquan border by a crazy Portuguese priest. The Priest picked
up Tyler somewhere past Tete as the sun was beginning to set and
hadn’t released the speed pedal until they reached the border with
Malawi
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-
Hello Goodbye
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GUD Magazine, TBA
- Paul is dead now...
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- Angels Over Israel: Three Slides
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Aeon Magazine, TBA
- Michael saw the angels wherever
he turned. Tiny in size, the angels hovered in the unmoving summer
air, their wings rippling in the sun's blaze...
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- Generations
-
Son & Foe, September
2006
- In the heart of the circle Joyce
approached Jameson: Boswell’s naming convention seemed to amuse the
First, who tolerated it as they have tolerated him; he suspected the
entire mating ritual was being staged for his benefit...
- The Infinite Monkeys Protocol
-
GUD Magazine, December 2006
- It was a good board; it had three
dedicated lines, which meant three users could be online at the same
time, and sometimes Nowhere Man from NuKE hang out there, and also
Dark Angel from Phalcon/SKISM...
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- All the Wonder in the World
-
Abyss & Apex,
May 2006
- It began, the way these things
usually do, with a rain of frogs...
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- Bones
-
Fortean Bureau, April
2006
- ‘What's Auschwitz?’ Avraham said,
and the Kapo said, ‘You've never heard of Auschwitz?’ in a strange
tone that was both mocking and afraid. And he had said ‘No,’ and the
Kapo said, simply and with a certain weight, ‘It can't be.’
- Midnight Folk
-
Aeon, issue 6, February
2006
- My name is Sal Paradise, and I’m a
private investigator...
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- The Dope Fiend
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Sci Fiction, December
28th
- Translations: Hebrew, Polish
- It was a cold November night; my
apartment by the meat market of Smithfields was draughty. It was a
bad night, and I did not wish to be disturbed. I had cleared the
floor of all furniture and arranged half-melted candles in a star of
David on the floor, contained within a chalked pentagram.
I was about the begin when there was a knock on the door...
- The Gimatria of Pi
-
The Fortean Bureau,
August 2004.
- Reprinted in
Infinity Plus, May 2005.
- I first learned of the conspiracy on the
fourth of November, Nineteen Ninety five: the day Yitzhak Rabin died. You
might not believe me, but that's all right: you don't need to in order to
help...
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- Alienation and Love in the Hebrew Alphabet
- Chizine, April 2005.
- Reprinted in
Infinity Plus, 2005.
- Translations: Hebrew.
- An apple tree. A little girl standing
beside it.
The apples are small and bitter, like old men; they are wizened and sour.
Somewhere, a chime sounds, a wind blows leaves on the ground.
Somewhere, the hiss of escaping air.
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- Flash
-
Shadowed Realms,
TBA (2006)
- They say he saved every one of
us. They say he’s a hero.
I guess it’s a matter of perspective. I guess it depends on who you
believe...
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- The Gunslinger of Chelem
- Apex Digest #9, 2007
- High noon. The sun erased all shadows. He
stood in the heart of a town, of the kind that appeared in old Westerns. A
clock-tower, the hands standing on a minute to twelve...
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- Bophuthatswana
- Glorifying Terrorism, January 2007
- (anthology, edited by Farah Mendlesohn)
- We're driving down Rivonia with the
Sandton Towers rising on our left illuminated in neon light like metal
spikes driven into a crossroads...
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- My Travels with Al-Qaeda
- Salon Fantastique, October 2006
- (Anthology, edited by Ellen Datlow & Terry
Windling)
- In the summer Dar-es-Salaam is even less
attractive than usual: the August heat squats over low buildings and stains
with sweat the pages of the African Writers Series paperbacks sold from a
cart outside the hotel...
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- High Noon in Clown Town
- Postscripts, issue 9, December 2006
- They had met further east, in a small
trading town on the bank of the Grimaldi river that was so small it didn’t
even have a name. It was a one-clown-town...
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- Daydreams
- Apex Digest, TBA
- 'How to bring back objects from a dream.
How to bring the dead back to life,' he read. What is this?' He looked at
the table of contents. 'Fiction? What's this?'
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- Letters from Weirdside
- Aegri Somnia, December 2006
- (Anthology, edited by Jason Sizemore)
- Beyond the trees, at that point where he
could go no further, was an old and crumbling sign, black letters daubed in
paint on rotting wood. The sign said only, Weirdside.
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- The Sun Diary
- Flytrap #6, November 2006
- The enemy have destroyed uncle Wu’s farm
today. A bright explosion rose out of the ground like the hatching egg of a
phoenix, and all that remained of the previously-lush farmland was a crater.
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- The Gunslinger of Chelem
- Apex Digest, TBA
- The gunslinger stood with his back to the
clock-tower. A wide-brimmed hat covered his face in shade. The hands of the
clock moved towards the hour, touched it together –
They both drew their guns but there was only one shot.
- Children of the Revolution
- Fantasy Magazine, Issue 2, February
2006
- Moscow was cold and harsh, a suburban
prison where uniforms and plain-clothes all watched you hungrily as you
walked past.
'Moscow?' Dan snorted. 'Moscow is ten million people who hate you...'
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