Sirenia Digest #52 Contents
by Caitlin R. Kiernan
"There was a time, I am still reasonably certain, when all this might have been set forth as a mere tale, starting at some more or less arbitrary, but seemingly consequential, moment: the day I first met Isobel Endecott, the evening I boarded a train from Savannah to Boston, or the turning of frail yellowed pages in a black-magician's grimoire and coming upon the graven image of a jade idol."
A Ceiling of Amber, A Pavement of Pearl
by Sonya Taaffe
"Then she understood: she was not looking out into the air, but down through the depths of the ocean, where the abyss should have waited; the light burned colors that had no names above water, a beating heart, the last spiral working of a shell, and a lost schooner as long as her ring finger hove tumbling up against her side. Breathless, her blood unfolding like her name in the wild water around her, she reached for the sun beneath the sea..."
by Vince Locke