Archive for Rated PG-13

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PodCastle 910: Tusker Blue

Show Notes

Rated PG-13


Tusker Blue

by Lalini Shanela Ranaraja

 

You still remember the first time Hailé visited the pharmacy, because that was the day the rogue battle elephant overturned the village water tank and flooded five stores on Sacred Heart Road. The pharmacy was one of them, and you were bailing it out with a plastic jug, swearing a blue streak, when the bells jangled over the door. Without turning, you shouted, “As you can see, the pharmacy is closed today!”

“Please help me,” begged a voice hoarse with smoke, and you plunged your arm into the yellow water and cursed Raj, as you’d done frequently since the wedding, for leaving you to handle customers along with everything else. “If you just walk to Trincomalee Street, the surgeon’s office will be opening soon — ” (Continue Reading…)

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PodCastle 909: Resurrection Rum

Show Notes

Rated PG-13


Resurrection Rum

by Stephanie Malia Morris

After Kraus’s The Death and Life of Zebulon Finch

 

ALBEMARLE COUNTY, July 1927: WANTED! One ROBERT HOWARD for the MURDER of JOHN LITTLE. Physical description: NEGRO MALE of lightish hue, aged SEVENTEEN or EIGHTEEN, of LOW STATURE and AVERAGE BUILD, head PEANUT-SHAPED with CLOSE-CROPPED hair. Known to dress above his station in GENTLEMAN’S SUITS, outrageous HANDKERCHIEFS, and WING-TIPPED SHOES (stolen, all). Wanted also for the illegal possession and transport of RESURRECTION RUM across county lines. KNOWN ASSOCIATES: a gang of six or seven Negro rumrunners both MALE and FEMALE variously aged TWELVE to NINETEEN (descriptions, sketches below). DANGEROUS BY ASSOCIATION. REWARD $100 for information leading to hideout and/or capture. Suspect known to be ARMED and HIGHLY DANGEROUS. DO! NOT!! APPROACH!!! Report all sightings to the Albemarle County Sheriff’s Office at the following address: —— (Continue Reading…)

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PodCastle 908: TALES FROM THE VAULTS – Said the Princess

Show Notes

Rated PG-13


Said the Princess

by Dani Atkinson

 

Once upon a time in a far-off land, in a tiny room, in a tall tower, at the centre of a vast and impenetrable maze, the princess Adrienna cocked her head and frowned.

“Who said that?” said the princess.

She looked around the tower room, but saw no one.

“This isn’t funny. Who’s there?” said the princess.

She crouched by the bed. Underneath it she found the chamber pot and a nervous brown spider. The princess shuddered. Straightening up quickly and dusting off her rosy skirts, she paced the circumference of the room, searching every inch. There were not many inches to search, as after all it was a prison, and not elaborately furnished or overburdened with good hiding places.

“Where is that coming from? Who are you?” said the princess, stopping by the barred window.

“No, really, who are you? And quit saying ‘said the princess’ after everything I say!” said the prin . . . Oh. (Continue Reading…)

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PodCastle 905: The Next Dead Wife

Show Notes

Rated PG-13


The Next Dead Wife

by Jeanna Mason Stay

 

Every time a new wife crosses my husband’s threshold, I tell myself this time will be different. This time I’ll go free.

As her body falls to the floor, I’ll seize my opportunity. As her soul rises from her body, I will snatch what should be mine — no cliched tunnel of light, just a doorway into the afterlife. But it will be my turn this time, my door. I’ll take it before she can.

Not that I’ve been able to yet. When the moment comes, I am frozen in place. I can only watch as she enters the door and disappears. And I hate her for it. (Continue Reading…)

PodCastle 902: Godzilla as a Young Man Named Mike

Show Notes

Rated PG-13


Godzilla as a Young Man Named Mike

E.M. Faulds

 

I remember your mum telling me, after it all went down, that during the lockdowns you washed your hands so often your skin cracked and turned scaly and angry red, but you had to keep going just in case neglecting it killed her.

It echoed, not much later, when the worst of the pandemic was past, only it wasn’t just your hands. All your skin changed into islands of mottled gray or khaki, building up tire-rubber thick in patches, and turning numb where your body just up and decided to not work the same anymore. It was all part of what you were becoming, whether you liked it or not.

There were days, fewer and farther between, where she could still see a glimpse her son Michael, the gorgeous boy you used to be: a spill of curls that fell down one side of your brow, a diffident slant to shoulders on a gangly frame, eyes the clear amber of long-steeped tea, that knowing grin. She’d see a ghost of that smile and be transported back through the ages of you, all the way to when you first announced yourself with a wriggle-kick to her womb. Then your grin would slide away as the pain did its thing and the beautiful boy submerged so your new self could rise, wrathful. (Continue Reading…)

PodCastle 901: Moths in a Fluttering Heart

Show Notes

Rated PG-13


Moths in a Fluttering Heart

by Christine Lucas

 

When Maria returned to her village, she found it burned to the ground. Nothing was left of her kinspeople but blackened corpses littered across the village square. She searched around, with the moths in her gut a panicked swarm, stinging to be let out. Everyone else had been shot on the narrow cobblestone streets. On weak knees, with eyes burning from the lingering smoke, she turned towards the woods, her moths breathless with guilt and relief in equal parts. If Evdokia, the midwife, hadn’t sent her to the herbalist two towns over, she’d be dead too. At the edge of the village, Maria stumbled on Papa-Kostas, shot by the Virgin’s shrine, in a pool of blood.

Maria sniffled and he raised his head, his eyes unfocused.

“Maria? Is that you, girl?” Barely a whisper. (Continue Reading…)

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PodCastle 897: Oops! All Swords

Show Notes

Rated PG-13


Oops! All Swords

by Jessie Roy

 

Blackness, and a ringing in your ears, and the smell of ozone, frankincense, woodsmoke. Something’s happened. An accident. A magical accident.

But you’re conscious, and your heart’s beating. You’re alive, probably. That’s a start.

Vision returns in sparkles, resolving into blinding lines of glitter. You squinch your eyes almost shut as the image clears. It’s your master’s workshop, sort of. Bookshelves and scroll racks, salt-crusted alembics, a human skull perched on the mantelpiece above the motionless flames. Your master in the doorway, caught in the moment of hanging up his pointed hat. But through the haze of your lashes, swords gleam from every surface. Huge zweihanders pierce the countertops; miniature bodkins velvet the floor. Scimitars cross the door, trapping your master in a cage so tight you can see a few white beard hairs at his feet. (Continue Reading…)

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PodCastle 895: The Day of the Sea

Show Notes

Rated PG-13


The Day of the Sea

by Jennifer Hudak

 

When the Sea came to our village, she was an old woman. She arrived when the water crested and draped over the earth, its salty fingers pushing out offerings of sea glass and bladder wrack. Her dress trailed behind her, hair tangled with kelp and tentacles. No one doubted that she was the Sea. Everyone was disappointed.

We’d all heard tales about the power of the rising ocean, how it leveled towers and returned rock to sand. How it would destroy everything in its path in order to make its way home, to our village. In those tales, the Sea was a warrior, beautiful and terrible, slashing her way across the continent, swallowing everything in her path. Even when gossips at the market began to whisper about nearby towns swallowed by salt water, about boats crushed like kindling and bones strewn across the ocean floor, even as the smell of salt wafted on the breeze, we did not seek her out. We waited for her to come to us, as the stories had foretold. (Continue Reading…)

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PodCastle 894: The Summer of Lugubriosity

Show Notes

Rated PG-13


The Summer of Lugubriosity

by M. T. Lee

 

We did the ritual on a Wednesday. Josh brought the candles, I brought the book, and Deek brought the lamb. We’re still not sure where he found it.

“Reckon it’ll work?” The beach wind was chilly, and Deek’s voice was muffled beneath his coat.

“Duh,” I said, taking out the Necronomicon we’d found in the Halswell Community Library three weeks ago. But actually I had no idea ‘cos even though the demon goatfish stuff had gone really well, this one was at the end of the book and written in blood or maybe crappy red ink. Really, this was all Dad’s idea. “You boys should do something with your holidays instead of playing on the TV all the time,” he’d said. I brought this up the next time we hung out. “We boys should do something with our holidays instead of playing on the TV all the time,” I told them. This was mostly because they were playing Mortal Kombat III which I wasn’t really good at and I got bored watching them, but also because when I thought about the holidays ending I always felt kinda sad, so I thought it’d be cool to do a big one before we had to go back to school. Anyway they murmured Yeses from their bean bags so here we were, summoning an ancient sea god from the fathomless abyss. (Continue Reading…)

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PodCastle 893: Counting Fairies

Show Notes

Rated PG-13


Counting Fairies

By Victoria Dixon

 

Inside her carport, Janet Littleton turned off the bike’s grumbling engine and removed her pit bull’s goggles. Buddy wagged his tail until she unbuckled him from the sidecar. He bolted downhill toward the rock quarry.

Janet groaned, praying he didn’t go into the quarry. If she entered, there were too many rocks to count, and she’d never leave. Never be safe again. She whistled through her teeth. Buddy barked but did not return. He must have discovered yet another helpless creature to save. She took the dumplings they’d bought and entered her old clinic, walking across the foyer and through the doorway into her home’s adjoined kitchen. She stowed the dumplings in the fridge, her mouth watering at their greasy scent.

“So much for breakfast.” (Continue Reading…)