Laecie felt the well of magic filling what she could only describe as her lungs.
You're reading Magical Realism
The Magic Quilt
He bought it on a dark street corner, just like in the movies. Rain poured, cars splashed in puddles as they drove by, and it was all cast in a dim glow from the sign at Archie’s Insurance. A man leaned against the brick building. He carried a wrapped bundle in his arms. Another man, tall and lanky, appeared further down the street. As he walked to the man with the bundle, he shook rainwater out of his eyes…
The Beast
In “The Beast” by Noah J. Matthews, homeschool teen Melinda meets a cute guy on the beach near her home in Michigan. The problem is, Melinda is a werewolf, thanks to a bad decision she made when she was a small child, and everyone knows werewolves can’t fall in love. Let alone homeschooled werewolves.
I Saw Bigfoot Today, Darling
I saw Bigfoot today, darling. I was in the woods behind your grandpa’s house and going on that trail that leads slowly up the mountain, listening to the wind in the pine trees and thinking “What if we could fly?” And if so, I’d like to fly away on that wind, climb on and ride it like a dragon (that’s something you would think up, darling).
A Taste of Someone’s Home
The air was crisp. Leaves crunched under his feet as he walked up the downtown of a small midwestern town. He stopped in front of a little shop—the one he told his partner to meet him at. To his knowledge, this town was the source of the spice. He adjusted his coat, his human teeth chattering.
Stop and Eat the Roses
Look—it’s not easy being the Easter Bunny. It’s not that I don’t like painting all those eggs—I do. And it’s not the manual labor aspect; I don’t even hide the eggs, ok, the pixies do that. What sucks is the social expectation. Easter is a real community-driven holiday, you know? Everyone’s always getting together to barbecue or something, and I just…I don’t do that whole “social” thing. But somehow people always seem to expect me to party and picnic and talk about my “process” and “where do you see yourself in five years” and honestly I’d rather watch paint dry.
Degenerate List
Robisi was a broken man in every way. His speech was slow and he often faltered mid-sentence, as if he’d been caught on Sunday morning with only half a homily. His back, though not broken, was hunched, and he looked at the ground as he walked. He lived each day with a...