I stopped at my desk, tracing paper stacked and twisted in a monument to the process of learning how to be creative, and opened my lock-box, door standing ajar, lock laying closed and inside.
Through Twitter, I recently discovered that Clarkesworld is accepting submissions for an anthology called UPGRADED.
When, four hours ago, at the bottom of a dormant cinder cone, our guide had casually mentioned the possibility of a cloud of poison gas wafting over us from the active cone, we’d all laughed. Standing atop the dormant cone, hearing Jorge’s alarm blaring over the deep, resonant rumbling of an erupting cone, a bright…
After fourth period, it would be time for lunch, time to take another tentative step out of childhood, time to put the fear aside and embrace that right-of-passage that all young men must endure; I had to talk to the girl, to ask her out on a date, to figure out what one was supposed to do on a date.