Weekly fiction round-up

Another esoteric conglomeration of short fiction I've read and loved, all pulled from the annals of my Facebook page. So far, so good. Despite personal turbulence, I've managed to ensure that I've got an update a day going. Without further ado: 

FINNEGAN'S FIELD (Tor.com) is yet more proof of Angela Slatter's ability to mix fairy tale with horror. A tale of grief, of a mother's love, of how willing some are to sacrifice others in the pursuit of their own selfish interests, this novelette is bleak, heart-wrenching, and sumptuously dark.

Sharp, sleekly written, A SERIES OF STEAKS (Clarkesworld) dips into the future of culinary experimentation. Bio-printing is commonplace as are forgeries, proof that man cannot outrun its own sins.

ALL THE SOULS LIKE CANDLE FLAMES (Luna Station Quarterly) is mythic, mesmerising, a fairy tale that feels like it comes the pages of history itself. The rhythm of the prose evokes a memory of the ocean. Heartbreaking, gorgeous, yet hopeful.

A sliver of American folklore, retold from the margins. RAZORBACK (Apex Magazine) is a hard story, lean, elegantly spun, and sharp as a boar's tusk. It does not flinch from dark things, does not connive to provide a happy ending when what is needed is justice instead.

YOUR BODY, BY DEFAULT (Fireside Fiction) is if I recall correctly, was written in response to Ubisoft's remark that women are 'too difficult to animate.' The result is heart-wrenching, soul-gutting. The story discusses dysphoria, the horror of waking up in a body not yours, of being told your identity wasn't important enough. It is also a tale of variegated love, of women, of soldiers, and the aftermath of war.

IN MEMORIAM: LADY FANTASTIC (Fireside Fiction) is a sharp, quick read that sings with something rare: hope. It is also unflinchingly critical of media's obsession with women's looks, the way a woman's achievements can be overlooked in favor of her relationship with men, or her appearance in skin-tight leotards. Fierce and evocative, this story will burn like a star inside you for hours.

THE LOW, DARK EDGE OF LIFE (Nightmare) gibbers and seethes, cosmic horror at its most disturbing. The imagery is vivid and grotesque, the main character wholly alien. A story that will linger like a breath of bees in the lungs.