a language for two

My story "Into the Morning" appears in the current issue of Bewildering Stories.

An excerpt:

My dam loved to weave. When my sire was away in the late afternoons, she’d sit in her favorite spot in the hollows, and hum as she spun the silk from her spinnerets. She’d shape strands into patterns that first caught the last colors of dusk, before transforming what she held into something marvelously ordinary — a blanket, a sheet, a dining cloth.

I remember when I was four, coming across her spinning, dappled in the fading sunlight. My nest-siblings were far behind me, and for a pure and perfect moment, my dam and I were alone. She looked up at me, her eyes reflecting orange and red and gold, and held out the web in her hands.

In that action, I caught the unspoken words: how she moved her shoulders, the motion of hair on her soft abdomen, the softness of light.

And of course what she held up for me to see.

To me, it looked like a star.

To me, it said love.


Read the story here.