What is magic other than the applied use of mystery? And what is more mysterious than a city full of millions of people, each with their own stories, their own mysteries, their own magic? Queer Magic is a collection of stories about mysterious, magical people and the city they live in.
Remember though: all magic has cost. Forget that, and you may forget what price you are willing to pay.
Part the First:
Looking for A Small Corner in a Big City
We can not stand the light.
I? Is it me? I do not remember.
We are ourselves a cockroach, a scuttler who abhors the light. We hide under bags of refuse and peer into windows, pulling our hat down to hide our eyes when the lights within shine too brightly and we must cry. We were naked until we scrounged gloves to hide our hands and dirty white shoes to hide our feet. We wear a winter coat despite the heat of the summer. The stench and filth cling to us and our withered legs, match-sticks that shiver, trying to spark a light. Our hands hurt. They always hurt.
We are. We do not know what we are.
I. I should be an I only and not a We. But who are these other voices in my head? Is it my head?
Hush. Go back to sleep.
I shall, thank you.
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