Apex #144, May/June 2024

Apex #144, May/June 2024

“Those Left Behind” by Kanishk Tantia

“At Night She Dreams of Silverfish” by Monica Joyce Evans

“Down the Dust Hatch” by Derrick Boden

“The Clown Watches the Clown” by Sara S. Messenger

“The Art the Owls Can’t Swallow” by Spencer Nitkey

“The Jukebox Man” by Natalia Theodoridou

“Out of Print” by Wen Wen Yang

“To Rise Again” by Kelsea Yu

“Abode” by Jermane Cooper (reprint, not reviewed)

“Wanderlust” by LP Kindred (reprint, not reviewed)

“Cinderwitch” by Cherie Priest (excerpt, not reviewed)

Reviewed by Victoria Silverwolf

The original fiction in this issue ranges from surrealism to hard science fiction.

The narrator of “Those Left Behind” by Kanishk Tantia is a robot made to look like and act like the dead husband of a woman. There are millions of such machines, caring from those who have lost loved ones. When the woman does not appear for many days, the narrator discovers what happened to her, and has to find a new reason for existing.

Without giving too much away, I found the reason for the woman’s disappearance hard to believe. (To eliminate what will seem like the most likely explanation to most readers, she has not died.) I also found it difficult to accept that the robot, which seems quite sophisticated in its programming, would prepare breakfast for the woman then throw it away uneaten hundreds of times after she is gone. Despite these objections, the story is a warm one with emotional appeal.

The protagonist of “At Night She Dreams of Silverfish” by Monica Joyce Evans is a researcher in an underwater shelter in the ocean of another planet. She sees something inexplicable in the water, and undergoes a strange transformation.

If this synopsis is overly vague, that’s because I failed to understand exactly what was happening. Whether the events are hallucinatory, a result of alien life, or simply magical is impossible to tell. Perhaps the story is deliberately ambiguous. In any case, it is best appreciated for sensory descriptions and a dream-like mood.

In sharp contrast, “Down the Dust Hatch” by Derrick Boden is narrated in a clear, realistic style. An accident limits the supply of air in a mining station within an asteroid. The company in charge, interested only in profit, delays sending a rescue mission in favor of more lucrative space flights. Meanwhile, those workers who cannot meet productivity standards are cut off from their air supply. The narrator sends messages back to Earth about the situation, and has special knowledge that may prove either lifesaving or dangerous.

To accept the premise, one must assume that the company has absolutely no regard for the lives of its employees. Even if readers go along with this, they are likely to wonder why the company’s coldblooded policies don’t create a huge scandal back on Earth. (For that matter, why doesn’t the company block or censor messages to the home world?) Be that as it may, the story will appeal to those who enjoy hard science fiction with a hardboiled, gritty attitude.

It may be worthy of note that “The Clown Watches the Clown” by Sara S. Messenger carries nineteen content warnings, as opposed to no more than three for other fiction in the issue. The story takes place in an urban environment on another planet inhabited by both humans and aliens. Led by the aliens, workers go on strike for better conditions while dressing as clowns. Meanwhile, the narrator, who has masochistic tendencies, allows people to beat him up while he is dressed as a clown. Flashbacks reveal his relationship with a lover that led to this behavior.

Despite all the content warnings, I found little objectionable here. Readers easily disturbed by sadomasochistic relationships may feel differently. The double symbology of the clown outfits is obscure, and the work as a whole is disjointed.

The narrator of “The Art the Owls Can’t Swallow” by Spencer Nitkey creates sculptures from the contents of owl pellets. Her conservative, religious husband dislikes these things, and urges her to go to marriage counseling. Her latest and largest work of art leads to an extraordinary transformation.

With discussion of eleven works of art in a story one thousand words long, including an extended description of the final one, there is little room for a complex plot or detailed characterizations. These detailed word pictures of the sculptures are more interesting than the rest of the work.

The title of “The Jukebox Man” by Natalia Theodoridou is quite literal. A woman begins a love affair with a man who is a jukebox. He almost never speaks, instead communicating via the records he plays in his body. As she becomes busier in her career, their relationship slowly dissolves.

Other than the surreal premise, this is a straightforward account of two people falling in and out of love. The author creates a bittersweet mood and avoids melodrama, even if the speculative content does not seem absolutely necessary for the effect.

“Out of Print” by Wen Wen Yang is the first of two very brief pieces inspired by writing prompts. In this case, the prompt is “Last Death.” The narrator knows she is a character in a novel. (The story-within-the-story is similar to the familiar tale of Madame Butterfly.) As the book’s popularity wanes, the characters fade away, ending with the narrator.

This tiny fable can be read as an allegory for the importance of reading and as a lament for the way other media draw attention away from books. As such, readers of the magazine are sure to agree, but it may be a case of preaching to the choir.

“To Rise Again” by Kelsea Yu is inspired by the writing prompt “Falling Skies.” Addressed in second person to multiple listeners, it tells how shards of color fell from the sky at sunset, and what effect this had on the world and its inhabitants.

This brief prose poem offers striking images and an optimistic ending. Readers may be left wondering what happens next.


Victoria Silverwolf had to have work done on both cars recently.