Apex Magazine “The Bathhouse for Long Life” by Claire Jia-Wen
“Glass” by Beth Dawkins
“My Suicides” by Debbie Urbanski
“Seventeen Beats, the Chirping Stopped” by Christian Ramirez Ramos
“In Your Diminishing Tongue” by Indigo Rue
“The Vigil of the Tenth Air” by Surya Ramkumar
“Of Brackens and Cowries” by Jana Bianchi
Reviewed by Jesse James Fain
Apex #153 has placed me in a quandary. It’s my job to be a reviewer, and I love Dark Fantasy. I should absolutely be Apex’s target audience for any other issue. This issue, issued for May of 2026, is dedicated heavily to Women’s and LGBTQ+ stories and struggles. As a straight man, whose Muskogee ancestry is practically invisible under all the Scots-Irish, I am absolutely not the target audience. It stands to reason that the depth and brilliance of these stories may be lost on me, and I would like to acknowledge that before we dive into the tales of the issue.
“The Bathhouse for Long Life” by Claire Jia-Wen is a first-person telling from an unnamed woman who runs said bathhouse. The house posseses the waters of Life and Death, and our narrator keeps them. She is approached by a woman begging for help, not for herself, but for a friend who is pregnant and imprisoned.
The story that follows offers deep and fascinating world-building, a complicated look at women, how the world treats them, fertility, and abortion. Our narrator is the adopted daughter of a demon that very much resembles a Jorōgumo, has a host of spirits as friends to assist her, and carries a deep sense of duty. As the grandson of a woman who very much resembled a demon in temperament, I can understand.
I found it fascinating. The story is well crafted, and worthy of deeper exploration. My biggest criticism would be that there is not a single decent human man in the entire story. The story makes it clear that men are the enemy in nearly every circumstance and only provide security at the cost of freedom. Highlighted in the protagonist’s ex-lover being forced into a marriage with a man for financial and social gain.
“Glass” by Beth Dawkins punches hard for being only a little over one thousand words. Once again, a first-person narrator. It reimagines all the wounds and slights of a toxic relationship as shards of glass given from a lover to the narrator, which eventually fuse themselves into her skin. The story, a giant metaphor, is potent, and while the plot is simple, it’s emotional impact is deep.
“My Suicides” by Debbie Urbanski is the chronicle of a woman who constantly battles an obsession with suicide and is haunted by manifestations of that obsession. It’s probably one of the darkest writings I have ever read. I cannot say I enjoyed this piece. I don’t think it was meant to be enjoyed.
I’ve lost family personally to the self-induced exit option, and while the morbidly curious part of me met with the protector in me to learn the signs and thought patterns of the suicidal, nothing about this story feels like fiction. The story is a therapy exercise on paper. It does not come across as a story Debbie wrote. It comes across as Debbie’s personal struggle with suicidal mental illness written down. I am not entertained; I’m saddened. I’m also educated, but I don’t think most people could bypass the nightmare to see the lessons.
“Seventeen Beats, the Chirping Stopped” by Christian Ramirez Ramos is a tale of body horror and struggle with acceptance as a gay man. A lover perishes and sends the narrator on a spiral of depression, both with personal loss and the consequences of his home country’s view of homosexuality.
Once again, this does not feel like fiction, but therapy on paper. The main character’s details match Christian’s biographical details, and mixed in with nightmarish hallucinations in graphic detail, you are taken through his pain, anger, and depression. It’s not enjoyable. It’s illuminating as you struggle through the story, just as the narrator struggles through his existence. I once again doubt Joe Everyman’s constitution to make it through this. Not for lack of skilled prose, but for a never-ending spiral of mental illness.
“In Your Diminishing Tongue” by Indigo Rue is a dark trip with an unnamed entity who consumes words. With clever use of symbols, Indigo crafts a creeping dread as our consumer walks us through their profession and or sustenance. It’s dark, foreboding, and over in a flash, but leaves you pondering all the words that were spoken for the last time, and what it takes to preserve not just language, but the things that they represent. I enjoyed this one greatly.
“The Vigil of the Tenth Air” by Surya Ramkumar follows the soul of a father who is trapped with his son after a failed funeral right. What begins as a bleak and terrifying situation holds on to hope through a son’s persistence and a father’s love. I very much enjoyed this piece, as the story gives a dark idea a bright future.
“Of Brackens and Cowries” by Jana Bianchi captivates with the mystery of what bizarre force or personality keeps manifesting to help the narrator in their time of need. Its prose and descriptions are imaginative. The answer I will leave unspoiled, but it comes across as both beautiful and cliché.
Overall, this issue of Apex is a difficult read but contains undeniable talent. All my objections are not with the content or talent, but with the story structure. For someone closer to the issues presented, this may well be a much more captivating outing.
Jesse James Fain is an author, editor, and retired athlete. If you like the way he reviews fiction, you will most likely enjoy his other ramblings and writings. Find more at outlawauthor.com