I stole the moon when I was ten. Plucked it right out of the river. I hid it in my pocket all the way home, peeking once, twice, three times to make sure it was still glowing. I kept it on my desk like a nightlight until I was old enough to learn that monsters ...

It was in the rain beating the earth into submission outside. A calling. The quiet sort of call that drew Rhea from her bed. It was in the mice that brushed their heads with moistened paws beneath her cat’s lazy, yellow gaze. It was in her bundles of herbs and her books with thinning paper, ...

Back in the cave you groan as your skin finally stops moving and settles into place. You groan once more as your body finally finishes shifting, the bones breaking themselves and rearranging, the cartilage ripping and shifting, reforming. Then you can breath again. You can see, though it is different from your human vision. You ...

“What in the name of Chinese food are you doing to that pot sticker?” You look up at your cousin who’s watching you in abject horror as you lift the chicken dumpling from the bowl of ranch dressing. “It’s not like we had any sauce,” you mutter, raising the food to your lips and crunching ...