by Patricia Miller “This wasn’t my fault.” I say it and mean it. “It is as honest an answer as anyone can expect, and it is true.” She listened with a seriousness I had come to expect from her. She was the matriarch of her clan, with a keen ear for details and an iron grip on the hundreds which made up the colony under my eaves. Countless generations of her kind had filled my dark cavities and were my only regular occupants, if just during the months they weren’t hibernating. I had not planned to burden her with this, but the bright sunlight of the early spring day had…

by Katlina Sommerberg In the branches of a lonely redwood tree, hidden amongst the flowering cones, Bitsy’s web quakes from an impact. Hanging by a thread, the orb-weaver calculates her prey’s location from its vibrations. Her web shakes violently; this is no ordinary catch, yet the sticky lines hold. The prey’s exoskeleton glimmers like an iridescent dragonfly. Its body is one section — missing the thorax — with four circular wings composed of blades. When the vibrations stop, Bitsy’s palps reach for the not-insect’s shell. Its bladed wings buzz to life and sever structural threads. Bitsy jumps, lands on fallen needles upon the forest floor. She abandons her web to the microdrone.   * * * About the Author Katlina Sommerberg…

by Margot Spronk 1. The Courting Gwyn sank into a Downward Dog, extending her claws to deepen the stretch, unfortunately slashing her purple yoga mat, and not for the first time. Her previously even breathing stuttered, as her feline brain popped up an errant thought: why wasn’t this pose named the Downward Cat? No dog could bow their spines until their elbows touched the ground like a cat could. Maybe a dachshund — but that would look ridiculous. Gwyn giggled, exposing her canines, then snapped her jaws shut. Always…dogs. Never cats. She shuffled her hind legs closer to her front paws and lifted her knees onto her elbows, precariously assuming…

by Emmie Christie When Jan reached four years into sixty, his daughter and her son flew off into the glorious first exploration past the Milky Way to somewhere called Z-1. He waved them off like someone in Victorian England would’ve waved off a ship headed to the New World, smiling with cracked lips, his stomach riddled with resentment. He plodded home and stared down a bottle of scotch. The bottle won. Drunk, he studied the way of things. The way the old wooden fence withered in the bracing space winds, those that had descended on Earth hungering for trees and mountains. He studied the way the light tangled like necklaces…

by Mocha Cookie Crumble The restaurant Koda had chosen was beautiful — seating along the water, with fairy lights sparkling overhead and a rose on each table. With the sun setting over the ocean, casting a warm light over the earth, it was as romantic as you could get. So why was he so nervous? He resisted the urge to slick his soft ears back, instead facing them forward as he spotted Lilian. Oh, she was beautiful, never more so than tonight. Her fur was sleek and orange, her tail fluffy and swaying as she walked. A tight black dress hugged her hips. The sunset played up the pink-red tones…

by Beth Dawkins My talons pierce the back of a Tsintaosaurus. I roll forward, sinking my fangs into its hide. The blood tastes unlike the sweet, life-giving nectar of yesterday. It is foul and sour with a stench that coats the inside of my nose. I hear a song of discontent from one of my sisters. Another song splits the air. I pull out my fangs, and my mouth tingles. There is a sandy consistency that covers my tongue. We need the blood. The hungry and the young will die without it. We scream out frustration until I am sure our song will attract the Qianzhousaruses who watch over the…

by Chad Gayle If your child’s a dragon, there’s no need to explain your tattered clothes or the smoke rings round your eyes. We know how your eyebrows got singed, and we know you spent half an hour or more circling the parking lot because you really didn’t want to walk through those double doors. You didn’t want to take your place among us, to admit by your very presence that you’re afraid of your young dragon, nor do you want to acknowledge that the love you’ve always felt for the magical creature living in your midst is fraught, these days, with dread and disappointment. Most of all, you’d rather…

by Mary Jo Rabe It turned out to be a perfect time for saving the universe. Fortunately, Fred the resident farm opossum was paying attention, as always. After a long nap, some careful foraging activity, and resultant nibbling, Fred the opossum laid his moderately chubby body down on the brown grass and dipped the sticky claws on his front feet tentatively into the muddy duck pond. The ducks flew off, quacking loudly in protest but acknowledging the potential danger of Fred’s presence. Completely unnecessary. Fred would never bother trying to kill a duck. Too much effort involved. Duck cadavers, marinated in the pond for a couple of days and covered…