#r.s. bohn

[101fiction]

Closet

by R.S. Bohn A skull that fits entirely in her palm, with the downiest hair. He gasps, a single indrawn breath. Almost louder than the footsteps in the hall. Almost. The closet door closes, and she counts. * Six elephants sway above the crib. He glances at the window – still nailed shut. Son in crook of arm, he opens the closet door. Dust and extra blankets. Just in case, he nails it shut too. * A decade for him, hundreds for her; she’s been carefully avoiding this thread, but today… She pulls. Rusted nails plink to the floor; the door creaks open: He’s still perfect. Author bio: R.S. Bohn officially has no comment on allegations that Stephen Cosgrove based his 1978 book, "Misty Morgan," the story of a princess and her unicorn, on her. She can definitively say, however, that Scholastic book fairs at her school were, without a doubt, the best days of the school year. Closet is part of 101 Fiction issue 25. via 101 Fiction http://www.101fiction.com/2019/12/closet.html (comments welcome!)

[101fiction]

Scourge

by R.S. Bohn Grinna Grumpmutt lifted a boot caked in iridescent muck. She hated unicorn brains. Only thing worse was unicorn entrails after a recent meal. Dragonflies, hamsters, swallowed whole and writhing feebly, half digested, in that rainbow of guts. The only orc in Parasite Removal meant she got the 'corns. Typically, a couple a year. There'd been twelve this month already. Vacation beckoned in fourteen hours – a swampy slice of heaven in Louisiana. Her walkie screeched, "Got another one! Library!" Grinna snarled. She had no time for a damned plague of the things. Wiping her badge, she mounted her scooter. Countdown on. Author bio: R.S. Bohn officially has no comment on allegations that Stephen Cosgrove based his 1978 book, "Misty Morgan," the story of a princess and her unicorn, on her. She can definitively say, however, that Scholastic book fairs at her school were, without a doubt, the best days of the school year.

Scourge is part of 101 Fiction issue 18.

via 101 Fiction http://www.101fiction.com/2018/03/scourge.html (comments welcome!)

[101fiction]

Canny

by R.S. Bohn “If you see such a thing, find Gregory. At the Pious Goat.” The man bent, his coat falling open enough to reveal the glint of a silver dagger within, as he passed the coin. “Careful, little man. They're canny beasts. And they eat boys.” When the man had passed the giant sycamore, Daniel whistled. A shape coalesced from the birch. It snorted, stomping a huge hoof into the deadfall and thwacking its single, spiraling ivory horn against a tree before changing again. “Shame someone didn’t eat him when he was a boy.”  Daniel shrugged. “Never mind, momma. Let's go home.” Author bio: R.S. Bohn officially has no comment on allegations that Stephen Cosgrove based his 1978 book, "Misty Morgan," the story of a princess and her unicorn, on her. She can definitively say, however, that Scholastic book fairs at her school were, without a doubt, the best days of the school year.

Canny is part of 101 Fiction issue 18.

via 101 Fiction http://www.101fiction.com/2018/03/canny.html (comments welcome!)

[101fiction]

Tea

by R.S. Bohn Crabapple soup: what demons are served when they slither through the Dream House portal. Dipping a splintered claw, Fifomene checks for poison. Two grams hemlock. Grinning, he tilts the plastic bowl, pouring hot liquor down his throat. "My mother's milk was more toxic," he gloats. She adjusts a slumping Elmo in his chair. "Check the bottom." A fanged K scrawled in red. She lifts a finger, where yesterday a doctor had poked her. Smoke billows up. "Rune-brat! Pint-sized wh—" With a poof, he's gone. Outside the door, her granny smiles. Demons always were suckers for a witch's tea party. Author bio: R.S. Bohn lives on one side of a moat and talks to crocodiles. Carries a trident everywhere. Drinks navy-strength rum. Has failed 'Talk Like a Pirate Day' six years running.

Tea is part of 101 Fiction issue 15.

via 101 Fiction http://www.101fiction.com/2017/06/tea.html (comments welcome!)

[101fiction]

Veiled

by R.S. Bohn Pink eyed, the pigeon stares at me, head cocked. On the fountain edge, gray and black birds coo nervously, but this one is silent. Next to me, a young woman in mourning dress says, "That one's the Devil. I saw it on the window ledge the day Stephen died." Before I can tell her that albino pigeons aren't a rarity, that there are bound to be a hundred of them in the city, she darts forward, tossing her black veil over it. It flaps in a panic, as she pummels it with her bare hands. She leaves, triumphant and bloody-handed. Author bio: R.S. Bohn lives on one side of a moat and talks to crocodiles. Carries a trident everywhere. Drinks navy-strength rum. Has failed 'Talk Like a Pirate Day' six years running.

Veiled is part of 101 Fiction issue 15.

via 101 Fiction http://www.101fiction.com/2017/06/veiled.html (comments welcome!)

[101fiction]

Regeneration

by R.S. Bohn Toes hunted through muck, finding a sharp curve and lifting the shell to the basket slung from her neck. No arms don't mean no work, her dad said. Clams need digging. If her eyes fell out and got ate up by fish, he'd probably say she don’t need eyes, neither. Her toes rubbed something rough, like a cat's tongue. She jerked when it moved, wrapping around her foot. She lifted her knee. A starfish. Sharp pain tore up her spine, exploding from her shoulders. The starfish dropped away. She slapped at it with a perfect, coral-coloured pair of pointed arms. Author bio: R.S. Bohn lives on one side of a moat and talks to crocodiles. Carries a trident everywhere. Drinks navy-strength rum. Has failed 'Talk Like a Pirate Day' six years running.

Regeneration is part of 101 fiction issue 12.

via 101 Fiction http://www.101fiction.com/2016/06/regeneration.html (comments welcome!)

[101fiction]

Unlucky

by R.S. Bohn For twelve hours, Celia stood underwater in the frozen veggies aisle at Kroger. That's what happens when you die during a great flood, the whole world washed away, and you didn't make it to the ship on time. Celia wouldn't have won the last-minute lottery, anyway, she tells herself as a door opens and bagged peas go floating out, two by two. A hundred other souls haunt this place, but none seem to notice their drowned bodies. They're still shopping for soup and chips. Leaving her own body behind, tethered to its trolley, she drifts upwards into a new sea. Author bio: R.S. Bohn lives on one side of a moat and talks to crocodiles. Carries a trident everywhere. Drinks navy-strength rum. Has failed 'Talk Like a Pirate Day' six years running. Unlucky is part of 101 Fiction issue 12. via 101 Fiction http://www.101fiction.com/2016/06/unlucky.html (comments welcome!)

[101fiction]

'Aumakua

by R.S. Bohn Bare feet clinging to black rock, Fritzi wonders if any god will come to her rescue after she leaves the island. Watching the girl on the basalt shelf saying goodbye amidst salt spray, one of them smiles. "Not goodbye, little troublemaker." Reaching into the sea, it seizes a wriggling white fish. With a kiss, it is set free again – and goes streaking across the ocean. A hundred island gods will breathe a sigh of relief when Fritzi steps onto that plane, but this one will close its eyes, and open them again as a white fish speeding towards new land. Author bio: R.S. Bohn has no family gods to keep her out of trouble, so if any wish to volunteer, she promises lots of tea and windmill cookies. 'Aumakua is part of 101 Fiction issue 6.

via 101 Fiction http://www.101fiction.com/2014/12/aumakua.html (comments welcome!)