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Nightmare Magazine, Issue 139 (April 2024): Nightmare Magazine, #139
Nightmare Magazine, Issue 139 (April 2024): Nightmare Magazine, #139
Nightmare Magazine, Issue 139 (April 2024): Nightmare Magazine, #139
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Nightmare Magazine, Issue 139 (April 2024): Nightmare Magazine, #139

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NIGHTMARE is a digital horror and dark fantasy magazine. In NIGHTMARE's pages, you will find all kinds of horror fiction, from zombie stories and haunted house tales, to visceral psychological horror. Welcome to issue #139 of NIGHTMARE! We have original short fiction from Shannon Scott ("My Containment") and James Tatam ("Backseat Kiss"). Our Horror Lab originals include a flash story ("There Are Three Children Jumping Over a Can Outside a Bodega") from Mark Galarrita and a poem ("Ensabled Night") from John R. Turner. We also have the latest installment of our column on horror, "The H Word," plus author spotlights with our authors, and a book discussion from Sonora Taylor.
 

LanguageEnglish
PublisherAdamant Press
Release dateMar 31, 2024
ISBN9798224679256
Nightmare Magazine, Issue 139 (April 2024): Nightmare Magazine, #139

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    Book preview

    Nightmare Magazine, Issue 139 (April 2024) - Wendy N. Wagner

    Nightmare Magazine

    TABLE OF CONTENTS

    Issue 139 (April 2024)

    FROM THE EDITOR

    Editorial: April 2024

    FICTION

    My Containment

    Shannon Scott

    There are three children jumping over a can outside a bodega

    Mark Galarrita

    Backseat Kiss

    James Tatam

    POETRY

    Ensabled Night

    John R. Turner

    NONFICTION

    The H Word: Walking in Cemeteries

    Corey Farrenkopf

    De•crypt•ed: Taylor on King

    Sonora Taylor

    AUTHOR SPOTLIGHTS

    Shannon Scott

    Mark Galarrita

    James Tatam

    MISCELLANY

    Coming Attractions, May 2024

    Stay Connected

    Subscriptions and Ebooks

    Support Us on Patreon, or How to Become a Dragonrider or Space Wizard

    About the Nightmare Team

    © 2024 Nightmare Magazine

    Cover by Linda Bestwick / Shutterstock Images

    www.nightmare-magazine.com

    Published by Adamant Press

    From the Editor

    Editorial: April 2024

    Wendy N. Wagner | 314 words

    Welcome to Issue #139 of Nightmare Magazine! And happy April, a month so delightful Shakespeare was both born and died in it. I like to think that if Shakespeare was working in 2024, he would be writing horror—after all, the genre is full of witches, ghosts, murder, and double-crosses, some of his favorite material.

    The latter stuff—double-crossing, cheating, treachery, and betrayal—connects the work in this month’s issue. We start with a dark fantasy short by Shannon Scott: My Containment, a damply unpleasant little tale of a relationship based on trickery. James Tatam returns to our pages with Backseat Kiss, the story of a grudgingly polyamorous couple whose relationship turns horrific. Our flash piece this month is There are three children jumping over a can outside a bodega, by Mark Galarrita, which examines the way far too many people focus more on appearances than on real human connection. We also have a lovely poem with an unhappy ending in John R. Turner’s piece Ensabled Night.

    Corey Farrenkopf writes about cemeteries in the latest installment of our column on horror, The H Word, plus we have author spotlights with our authors. In our de•crypt•ed column exploring the horror canon, Sonora Taylor discusses Stephen King’s short story The Man Who Loved Flowers.

    I’m not going to compare the work in this issue to that of the Bard himself, but I think it’s a terrific installment in a genre that is absolutely flourishing right now. It’s said that Shakespeare lived at the very peak of the Renaissance in England, and I think it’s safe to say these writers are working at the zenith of a horror renaissance sweeping through film and literature. There’s such a tremendous amount of wonderful horror material to watch, read, and enjoy—thank you so much for spending time in our corner of the genre!

    ABOUT THE AUTHOR

    Wendy N. Wagner is the author of The Creek Girl, forthcoming 2025 from Tor Nightfire, as well as the horror novel The Deer Kings and the gothic novella The Secret Skin. Previous work includes the SF thriller An Oath of Dogs and two novels for the Pathfinder Tales series. Her short fiction has been nominated for a Shirley Jackson award, and her short stories, poetry, and essays have appeared in more than sixty venues. A Locus award nominee for her editorial work here, she also serves as the managing/senior editor of Lightspeed Magazine, and previously served as the guest editor of our Queers Destroy Horror! special issue. She lives in Oregon with her very understanding family, two large cats, and a Muppet disguised as a dog.

    FictionOut There Screaming edited by Jordan Peele

    My Containment

    Shannon Scott | 4916 words


    CW: abusive relationships, implied harm to children.


    When the American saw me sitting on a stone in the river, his mouth opened and closed, a brown trout caught on a fishing line. He kept his eyes on me as he hurried to pull off his socks and shoes, as if I would vanish otherwise. Then he rolled up the cuffs of his pants and waded into the shallow water. His toes were long and pale like the roots of a willow tree. When he came within arm’s reach of me, he stopped and let the current flow around his legs. He didn’t seem to know what to do.

    It’s my first time visiting the old country, he said.

    I thought he was calling me old, which I am, but not in a way he would understand.

    I’m teaching Michaelmas term at Trinity. He grinned and nodded. Are you familiar with Yeats?

    Maybe this is how American men seduce river women, but it’s not typical in my country. In my old country. As he continued to talk in his clipped accent, I grew bored, so I turned into a fish and swam away.

    • • • •

    Since I lost my sister, the days stretch ahead of me, sluggish and flat. It’s not fun to play alone. We used to take turns changing. If I became a tadpole, she became a newt, orange-bellied with sticky webbed feet. If I was a minnow, she was a dipper, a feathered fish, walking on the river floor, using her black wings to swim forward.

    We were not limited to the natural world for inspiration. We could become diamond rings or porcelain teacups, plastic bags or tin cans. Treasure or trash, flotsam or forfeited.

    She was better than me, I admit.

    I was a silver sixpence sparkling in the water. My

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