The Dark Issue 49 by Osahon Ize-Iyamu

Author:Osahon Ize-Iyamu [The Dark Magazine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: dark fantasy, fantasy, horror, magazine
Publisher: Prime Books
Published: 2019-05-29T12:38:36+00:00

Nibedita Sen is a queer Bengali writer, editor and gamer from Calcutta. A graduate of Clarion West 2015, her work has appeared in Anathema: Spec from the Margins, Podcastle, Nightmare, and Fireside. These days, she can be found in NYC, where she helps edit Glittership, an LGBTQ SFF podcast, enjoys the company of puns and potatoes, and is nearly always hungry. Hit her up on Twitter at @her_nibsen.

The Unwish

by Claire Dean

One step inside and Amy knew there was something she’d forgotten. She heaved her rucksack over the threshold and counted the carrier bags she’d lugged up from the Co-op in the town. Four, which was right. There might not be enough wine, though. With the front door key between her teeth—metallic tang on her tongue—she dragged the bags inside and stopped. The room hadn’t changed at all. She’d been eleven when they last stayed here. She’d never been back. How could it have changed so little in twenty years? She placed the key on the table and heaped the bags beneath it. Her boots were caked with mud. She tiptoed towards the kettle rather than battle with the filthy laces to get them off.

She cradled her tea on the bench by the front door. The river was insistent in her ears, though it was hidden by the trees. The opposite valley-side shifted with the wind, the trees forming an agitated creature that could not rest. The wood of the bench had warmed in the spring sunshine, but clouds were collecting now. A narrow path beside the cottage climbed to the road. She watched for the arrival of her sister and parents. They’d have to leave their cars further up the hill and carry everything down. A goldfinch perched on the gate for just a breath before lifting off again. She’d reached for her phone to take a picture, but the moment had gone. She couldn’t get a signal to send it to him anyway. And he’d be here before too long. They could sit on the bench together. The goldfinch might return.

Her cup was empty but still warm. She let it rest against her collarbone. She picked up her phone again and read through their last messages: “Can’t wait to see you tomorrow x,” she’d sent from the village. “See you soon,” he’d replied. No kiss. She tackled her laces and dirt powdered the flagstones. There was a hole in her left sock. It was a good job she’d worn that pair today. She left her boots beneath the bench and headed inside to unpack.

Her parents would take the main bedroom in the front. Should she claim the other decent-sized one? Sara had it when they’d stayed here as kids. They’d fought over it but Sara won, as always. Amy had ended up in the tiny room off the kitchen downstairs. Dad said it was like having her own den. But there was another room upstairs, she realised now. She pushed open the door at the end of the hall.

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