Welcome to the Forest —

The sparkly forest, the deep dark forest. The forest of dreams, the forest of adventure, the forest of magic, the forest of past and future. Step inside the magic of story.

When’s the last time you read Beowulf? Are you ready to find out the real story of Grendel’s dam? It's here.  And then we have a “scholarly” treatise on refugees from Fairyland (don’t skip the footnotes—they’re a hoot). We've got a couple of novellas you can sink into—love stories no less!—some Southwestern magic, a bit of archeology that might be science fiction or might be fantasy, a poignant soldier’s tale, intriguing twists on ghost stories, and some banging flashes and poems.

Keep your wits about you. We're going into the Woods!

Candyce Byrne

Editor, fall 2026

Table of Contents

“Deadlove” by Robert B. Marcus

By the end of the week, I noticed my tremble was real and had worsened, now in both hands. Nor did I feel quite right. I was a little fuzzy headed. Also, I had weird dreams, dreams I had trouble remembering, but somehow, I was in a cryogenic freezer staring at the glass wall of the cylinder that imprisoned me.

“Ghostwind” by Ken Hoover

The large wolf bared his large teeth and growled, but the barrier, humming with energy, kept him at bay. One inch closer, and the wolf would receive a nasty surprise. The pack would learn that Boz was full of nasty surprises, but it wasn’t time yet.

“The Marsh Queen’s Bargain” by Lyri Ahnam

A trophy glittered in the rafters: my son’s severed arm in its silver-scaled armor. What manner of monster wrenched a warrior apart then used his sundered limb as a prize?

“The Risen City” by Matthew Rettino

In the year since the continent rose to the surface, they had not discovered any human remains. Not a bone. They were all thought to have been dissolved by time, salt, decay.

“A Brief History of Fairyland Refugees in Late Georgian England” by Kara Race-Moore

And so the Fair Folk were issued invitations to hunting parties in the country at graceful estates edging woods and parkland that must have reminded them of home, or inclusion on the guest list of balls held by the Ton during the Season inTown, events that might have been somewhat similar to the parties they had left behind.

“Ghosts” by Rob Zimmerman

I know this is the last record of her before she died. The final moments are lost, embedded in her frozen skull somewhere alone in interstellar space. I pull myself back to the present. No time for ghosts. The ship needs power restored, and Henrietta is the only person that knows how do it.

“Walking” by Nicholas E. Efstathiou

He glanced over his shoulder at the dead men walking behind him.

“The Lost City of Urufu/Souleater” by S. R. Brandt

The trick to picking a souleater is to find an animal who resonates with your own special type of inner darkness.

“Grief”  by B. C. MacManamon

“Meat Puppet”  by Matthew Ross

“The Corridors”  by Silvatiicus Riddle

“Jumpin' Jack”  by John M. Floyd

“In search of intelligent life, a haiku” by L. Acadia

“Reincarnation” by Gary Every

“Low Orbit Sky Daddy” by Joshua Ginsberg

“The last Fire God lives in a matchbox” by Yuliia Vereta

“Grown-up” by Alice Fanchiang

“A Little Green Glass of Absence” by Oliver Smith

“On LARP and Melancholy: An Interview with Pablo Valcárcel Castro” by Matthew Rettino [link]

“I grew up in a household in which this idea that creativity was a powerful skill was very present. It’s kinda like a muscle that, if you’re given the chance, you can develop and strengthen.”

           I used to run a haunted theater, so it's no surprise this story grabbed me.

"A Walk in the Sun" by Mike O'Reilly 

Issue 28, September 2014 [ Archive ]

"'A Walk in the Sun' is particularly special to me. I love it as much for the connection to my brother as for the joy I had in writing it and seeing it published. It is as much his as it is mine. It began as an email, telling me of a strange dream he'd had the night before, and how he thought it would make a great story. He wasn't wrong. His dream and a single memory of an ancient projector I had once seen as a kid, became a story without me really thinking about it. It sort of appeared like an unexpected surprise, like a special gift wrapped in brown paper.  I wish I could tell you there was a process, but there wasn't. I just wrote until I ran out of words. I don't think I even read back over it until it was finished. What started out as a story about an aging vampire became a story about love, loss, grief and forgiveness. It was, for me, a story I needed to tell, despite not knowing I needed to.

          Read this one out loud and tell me—prose? poetry? music?

"Apocalypso"  by Laura F. Sanchez

Issue 60, Fall 2022  [ Archive ]

"'Apocalypso' started almost as an accident. Codex Writers group was having a multi-week online contest called Weekend Warriors, which consisted of several writing prompts being posted at 7:00 pm on Friday and contestants had to turn in a 750-word flash fiction piece before midnight Sunday. One week they added a bunch of potential titles from other writers. One that caught my eye was "Gabby Packs for the Apocalypse." I didn't choose the title but "apocalypse" kept rattling around in my head until it turned into Apocalypso, which hauled the Carribean along behind it.  And then the piece pretty much poured out in its entirety. At the time, memories  were much fresher of our current president flying down to Puerto Rico and answering the pleas for help of hurricane-devastated U.S. citizens by throwing paper towels into the crowd at the airport.

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