'30' by Helen Grant
Job the handyman had managed, with an ease born of long experience, to make himself absent at the moment when coffin bearers were required, thus sparing himself an unpleasant exertion. All the same, as he stood in the shadows watching the casket being carried out, he took off his hat in respect for the deceased. The dead man had been the son of a Lord, after all.
'An Element of Blank' by Lynda E. Rucker
It had that way about it, of getting inside your head. She reached again for the hands of the others, but she seemed to be alone. Not only that, but she was sure that she was thirteen years old again, that the years had fallen away. You always were thirteen years old, a part of you anyway: all the ages you’d ever been stayed inside you, locked in along with the memories.
'Vain Shadows Flee' by Mark Valentine
The many-hundred faces had been changed into grotesques, leering, shouting, grinning, or with tongues lolling towards the sword and the crozier that the giant held aloft.
'Tears From An Eyeless Face' by Michael Kelly
You still have hands. You lift them to your head and touch what is left of your face. It is wet, clammy and uneven, like a lump of malleable grey clay.
'Wild Dogs' by Adam Golaski
The man beside me turns and looks at me. I return his look—he looks back at the wall. He says, “Touch the threshold. It is ancient.”
'Even Clean Hands Can Do Damage' by Steve Duffy
Above the cul-de-sac, against the gravid rainclouds, reared the headland, the thing she’d dreamed of first of all, before the little girl, before anything. The fatal precipice, they’d called it in the newspaper: the scene of the accident.
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