Speculative fiction writer, translator, and editor


! guns

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The crows spoke with the voices of dead children. They swooped through the air, black smudges against a tapestry of blue, cawing words torn from fevered throats. One landed on a branch outside Mei’s bedroom. “Don’t want medicine,” it croaked. Mei opened the window and shooed the bird away. In the dim light of morning,…

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