Bards and Sages Quarterly (April 2021)

By Julie Ann Dawson, Denny Marshall, Zachary J. Vacek and 7 more

Celebrating our 13th year in publication!

 

Welcome to The Bards and Sages Quarterly, a journal of speculative fiction. With each issue, we strive to bring readers a wide range of character-driven fiction from established and emerging authors in the fantasy, horror, and science fiction fields. The Bards and Sages Quarterly is the perfect sampler to explore the incredible range of storytelling found in the speculative genres.

 

Here is a sample of what you will find in this issue:

 

A young boy discovers that a mathematical miscalculation can result in more than poor marks in Solving for X.

 

The Big Bad Wolf and Grandmother share more than just an annoyance with a certain girl in red in Grandmother's Shoes.

 

A peculiar phone call from her husband is only the first in a strange series of events that upends a woman's well-manicured life in She Could Be Me.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bards and Sages Publishing
• Release date: Mar 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781386002680

Julie Ann Dawson

Julie Ann Dawson is an author, editor, publisher, RPG designer, and advocate for writers who may occasionally require the services of someone with access to Force Lightning (and in case it was not obvious, a bit of a geek). Her work has appeared in a variety of print and digital media, including such diverse publications as the New Jersey Review of Literature, Lucidity, Black Bough, Poetry Magazine, Gareth Blackmore’s Unusual Tales, Demonground, The Philadelphia Inquirer, and others. In 2002 she started her own publishing company, Bards and Sages. The company has gone from having two titles to over one hundred titles between their print and digital products. In 2009, she launched the Bards and Sages Quarterly, a literary journal of speculative fiction. Since 2012, she has served as a judge for the IBPA's Benjamin Franklin Awards.

Book preview

Grandmother's Shoes

by Ray Daley

It was the shawl. That was the object of my downfall.

I had passed by the cottage hundreds of times before, never giving it a second glance before that day. It was a sturdy stone building, the heavy wooden door was kept locked at all times, there was but a single window, and even that had been nailed shut once someone had caught sight of me wandering around the local area.

But that shawl, the vibrant colors as it caught the wind! That red and white chequered pattern, oh, so pleasing to the eye!

Well, to mine, at least.

At first, I had seen it flapping, like some kind of deranged danger sign. Then I caught a waft, that familiar scent on the wind, even over the lavender soap it had been washed in.

Wool!

I knew how far away the nearest flock of sheep were, someone loved this person dearly if they had given them such a fine and luxurious woolen shawl. So I went to ground close by, near enough that I could keep an eye on the place, to watch if anyone came in or out.

Sure enough, a couple of hours later, the kid rocked up at the front door. A young girl, my nose told me she wasn't a teenager quite yet. And the sudden waft of wool, once again. Damn! Her entire cloak was made of wool, and from the same flock as the old lady's shawl too, if my nose was any judge? I lay there in the long grass with my tail curled around my body, watching as the young girl pulled out a key, unlocked the door, and let herself into the cottage.

Five hours later, she came back out again, not only locking the door but checking it three times, before she skipped back off towards town.

I KEPT MY EYE ON THE cottage for the next few days. The girl visited every day but one, which I came to learn was their holy day. That was the day when I learned who lived there.

It was the sweet old lady who put all the food out for the local wildlife every winter. From the way the young girl babbled to herself as she strolled along, you would have thought the old bird was unable to walk, but no, far from it. Once a week, she'd get dressed up real fancy, and make her way off towards the woods. I had no clue why at the time, but nor did I care either, as it afforded me the opportunity I had long since been waiting for.

I gave it a good thirty minutes before I finally approached the washing line. It was still there! She hadn't put the damn thing on when she'd gone out! Joy of joys! I finally couldn't hold myself back any longer. I pulled the shawl off the line and tossed it around my shoulders.

I honestly can't tell you how long I was standing there for, just enjoying the feeling of the wool next to my fur. Sheer bliss, so it was.

So enthralled was I, I failed to hear the old lady coming back again.

It was only when I heard her voice, that I knew she was back. I'm not going to ask how long you've been there like that. Nor am I going to judge you. But you could have at least waited to ask me before trying on my second-best shawl.

Of course, I was embarrassed. I'd been caught in quite a sticky situation. How to proceed? I decided to go with complete honesty. I'm sorry. I simply couldn't help myself. The smell of the wool was just too alluring to bear. The lavender soap, too. It just looked so inviting, I had to know how it felt to wear. You have my heartfelt apologies for not asking first. I didn't think you'd listen to a big stupid wolf about such a delicate matter.

To her credit, she heard me out, and never once did she give me a judgmental look. I've lived a long life, Mister Wolf, and I've seen many strange and unusual things too. But I've never encountered a wolf in actual sheep's clothing, at least not until today I hadn't. If you had a mind to ask me, I might be amenable to allowing you some time in that shawl, once a week. Or one very much like it. I've got dozens of the things, to be honest, deary. I'm sure I could spare one or two if you wanted them?

What? She didn't mind? Where was the benevolent God who had created such a wonderful, broad-minded lady? Because right now I wanted to hug him. Or her.

As my heart beat fast enough to escape through my throat, I took a deep breath and tossed myself at her mercy. Could I possibly have an hour once a week, please? To wear that shawl, or any you feel you wouldn't mind me wearing?

She just smiled at me. I bet you didn't even try the front door, did you? You were so wrapped up enjoying yourself out there, you didn't even think to see if I had locked the cottage up behind me.

The old lady was right, too. Not only had I not noticed if she'd locked the front door, I hadn't even thought to test if she'd left the place open or not. I had been far too busy, wrapped up in the bliss of my woolen wonderland.

She tottered past me, up to the front door. Put it back, if you please? So it can get a good airing out. Then she pulled the front door