The Cusp by Kathryn Gossow

The cicadas are silent. It took a while to realise the white noise of summer no longer vibrated. They’d argued about when they last heard them. She was sure it was before the last fire went through and he insisted he’d heard them after Cyclone Zandra dropped her load....

Yestermonth by Tim Borella

Berran was on the big flat rock wearing her heavy skin. Her eyes looked closed, but her slow, dancing movements always stopped just a bit before the edge. The eye-pod hung around her neck on a grass cord with the ear-bits still tucked up above her meaty ears, and I...

Herding Cats by Louise Pieper

The first time I saw the end of the world, Aunt Rowan convinced my mother it was just a toddler’s normal night terrors. I don’t know how she managed it. There’s nothing normal about our family. I tell Neve about it, when we’re tangled together on the sofa in her...