Posts Tagged ‘lies’

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Cast of Wonders 624: My Mother’s Voice and the Shadow (Staff Picks 2024)


My Mother’s Voice and the Shadow

by A. W. Prihandita

I pressed my palm onto my chest and said, “Marie.”

I pointed at my mother, took a deep breath and braved her abyssal eyes, asking, “And you? What is your name, Mother?”

I shouldn’t have been in her room, but my father was away, and I was a curious child. I stood in quiet trepidation and waited to know her.

She towered over me, shadow-like in the dark, but by a sliver of moonlight I could see the empty, crooked smile on her lips. It made me shiver—it always did. It looked like the painted simper of a porcelain doll, with eyes too wide and skin too white—except my mother’s skin was dark and wrinkly like shrunken leather. Her pitch-black eyes were an echoing emptiness, a starless midnight sky to fall into, with no thoughts to catch you, only darkness.

My mother was mute and feeble-minded—or so my father said. I would’ve believed him until the end of my days, had the shadow not shown me otherwise. (Continue Reading…)

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay. Graffiti of a boy, screaming, in a Banksy-esque style

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Cast of Wonders 606: My Mother’s Voice and the Shadow


My Mother’s Voice and the Shadow

by A. W. Prihandita

I pressed my palm onto my chest and said, “Marie.”

I pointed at my mother, took a deep breath and braved her abyssal eyes, asking, “And you? What is your name, Mother?”

I shouldn’t have been in her room, but my father was away, and I was a curious child. I stood in quiet trepidation and waited to know her.

She towered over me, shadow-like in the dark, but by a sliver of moonlight I could see the empty, crooked smile on her lips. It made me shiver—it always did. It looked like the painted simper of a porcelain doll, with eyes too wide and skin too white—except my mother’s skin was dark and wrinkly like shrunken leather. Her pitch-black eyes were an echoing emptiness, a starless midnight sky to fall into, with no thoughts to catch you, only darkness.

My mother was mute and feeble-minded—or so my father said. I would’ve believed him until the end of my days, had the shadow not shown me otherwise. (Continue Reading…)

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Cast of Wonders 276: A Secret of Devils

Show Notes

Southern Gothic recommendations:


Theme music is “Appeal to Heavens” by Alexye Nov, available from Promo DJ or his Facebook page.


A Secret of Devils

by Cassandra Khaw

The devil came to Georgia on a Saturday night. Atlanta, specifically. His arrival was heralded by no omens; he took a bumblebee-black cab to the city’s heart, a little suitcase in tow. His attire was sharp enough to kill, of course, but you expect that sort of thing with the devil.

“Where we going?” asked the driver.

“Where we’re needed” came the reply.

So they drove until they met a woman who’d been bleached of all her sweet. Single mom, two kids, a bag full of grief. Her children were home in a no-bedroom apartment, doing their homework by the light of a sitcom rerun. She was on her way back from the second shift of a second job, eyes bruised by the punches life had thrown.

The devil rolled down his window and grinned. “I’m Lucifer and I’m here to give you what you want.”

(Continue Reading…)

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Cast of Wonders 239: Hackers’ Faire (Artemis Rising 3)

Show Notes

Illustration by Mat Weller. Artemis Rising logo designed by Scott Pond.


Theme music is “Appeal to Heavens” by Alexye Nov, available from Promo DJ or his Facebook page.


Hackers’ Faire

by Rati Mehrotra

Some jerk in a speeding racer had wrecked Tiya’s cat. I was all for recycling its remains, but Tiya would have none of it. She wept until I gave in and promised to get it fixed at Hacker’s Faire.

I’d sworn not to go back there, not unless our lives depended on it. Everything at the Faire has a price, and I had little left to sell or barter. I had optioned my useful parts years ago, before I met Hanna and settled down – if squatting in an abandoned warehouse with eight other families can be called settling. Anyway, I had left my old life behind, and I kept quiet about my Truthtelling skills.

But Tiya’s our youngest and I couldn’t bear to see her cry. So I dusted my drum, slung it on my back and told her not to worry. “If Mama asks,” I said, “tell her I’m at the greenhouse.”

(Continue Reading…)