Content warning: death mention
Piles of bones kept appearing on my doorstep. Not animal bones, either, but people bones.
At first, I’d thought the bones a threat. I lived alone and far away, after all. A perfect target for the ire of nearby villagers. Not one to be cowed, I’d nailed skull and rib cage to the walls of my house.
But you’d continued bringing them.
Bones only appeared with the news of a local’s death. I suspect you’d clean them, but wanted more memorial than mere burial.
So I kept nailing them up. And between us, we built a shrine to the dead.
I’d beat you.
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Little Blue Marble 2022: Warmer Worlds
Featuring “I Hope This Email Does Not Find You!”
The last eight years have been the warmest on record.
Little Blue Marble‘s anthology of speculative climate fiction and poetry from an international slate of authors mourns and hopes in equal measure for the fate of our world and its ecosystems.
May these visions of the future inspire collective action before climate chaos becomes irreversible.
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