Forthcoming
…
“The Helmsman”
in Luminescent Machinations: Queer Tales of Monumental Invention, Neon Hemlock Press
(…)
Available for preorder!
2022
“The End of a Painted World” in Fantasy Magazine December 2022
Flaming orange tongues devour the walls around us. The soldiers outside batter at the old wooden doors of the back entrance.
Gingko holds fast, the ornate mural of gingko tree branches and golden leaves glowing like painted sunshine. (…) But her light grows dimmer with each impact against her doors. Her paint has started to crack and blacken.
“A Wound Full of Teeth”
in Beyond the Veil: Supernatural Tales of Queer Love, Ghost Orchid Press
At first, when Mai was born, she was normal. That’s how it always is.
Then one day, she felt a snapping sound from deep inside her skull as the back of her head split open and grew teeth.
“End of the line”
in The Dead Inside: A Horror Anthology,
Dark Dispatch
“You’re doing this to yourself, you know,” the shade says. They smile, but it’s more like a show of teeth, eyes too wide for it to look right. “Hell is supposed to be other people. But there’s no one else here. Right now, hell is just you.”
The inside of his throat is a ruin, his vocal cords reduced to pulp. If he could, he would ask:
Then what are you supposed to be?
2020
“Even Robots Can Cry”
in Fireside Fiction Winter 2020
There’s a buzzing in Simon’s head. Like a dying fluorescent light.
Computational neuroscientists have estimated that the data storage capacity of the human brain to be anywhere from 1 terabyte to 2.5 petabytes. Even 1 terabyte should be enough to handle this amount of studying. That’s 1,000 gigabytes.
But all he’s physically capable of right now is sitting in his desk chair and staring blankly ahead.
2019
“gods of small things”
in Unlocking the Magic: A Fantasy Anthology, Cuppatea Publications
The rule is always five.
Insert key into the doorknob, try to turn it counterclockwise, meet resistance, then turn clockwise to hear the sliding “click” of the locking mechanism engaging. Tug on the doorknob to make sure it’s locked. Then turn the key back, counterclockwise, to its original position. Remove the key. Reinsert the key. Turn counterclockwise-.
“Click, click,” the cat says from where it sits perched on the banister of the apartment stairwell, silver eyes seeming to glow against its inky black fur. “You’re late again.”
“How To Have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder”
in Open Minds Quarterly Winter 2019
“Clean”
adjective
1 – Has been washed/disinfected and has not come in contact with any surface that was not washed/disinfected beforehand.
2 – The standard by which something must be in order for it to be “safe.”
“Contaminated”
adjective
1 – Unclean, unsafe, terrible.
2 – A nightmare.
This is what the rest of the world is, by default.
Sam Kyung Yoo 