My brain has been like a bag of angry cats lately, and concentrating on reading has been kind of a challenge. While reading for this column, I found myself leaning toward stories on the shorter side, especially those that put a fun or weird spin on the familiar. My ten favorite short science fiction, fantasy, and horror stories from March are quick bites full of flavor.
“Butterfly Pavilion” by G. Willow Wilson
In a world devastated by environmental collapse, a group of survivors cling to a butterfly house as they try to decide what to do next. They collect lost children while tending to the butterflies as the world falls apart around them. There are no good options. No matter what they pick, something awful will happen, whether to them or the butterflies or both. As a teen I actually worked in a butterfly house at a theme park with a zoo attached to it (Marine World, for all you San Francisco Bay Area girlies). A great story that left me feeling both sad and hopeful at the same time. (Uncanny—March/April 2025; issue 63)
“Cryptid Or Your Money Back” by Misha Lenau
Our narrator buys an el chupacabra skin from a cryptid website and slips it on. They feel more themself as the monster than they ever did as a human man. But even then there is a sense of disconnection and unease. A visit to a conference of other humans cosplaying cryptids forces the narrator to ask themself some very big questions. Misha Lenau’s story is about the trans experience, first as a metaphor and then literally. I related to this story so much. It’s bloody, intense, and invigorating. (Asimov’s Science Fiction—March/April 2025)
“I am become death” by Nishka Dasgupta
Noor, an envoy from Nav Ur, arrives on an emergency shuttle to interrogate a winged robot that calls itself Jivi. Ostensibly, the interrogation is about what Jivi might have done to the terraforming engines, but it doesn’t go the way Noor anticipates. The title tells you everything you need to know about how this ends. This was a quirky little story with a sharp edge. (Inner Worlds—March 2025; issue 6)
“In Tandem” by Camden Rose
A bike appears on the doorstep of an older widower, Wallace. Missing his partner, Edgar, something fierce, the bike becomes a bit of an obsession. Wallace thinks the bike is a taunt from the neighborhood kids, but can’t get the HOA to do anything about it. He gets rid of it, and it keeps coming back. And each time it does, it reminds him a little more of Edgar. A sweet story about moving from grief to peace. As warm as a hug from a friend. (Flash Point Science Fiction—March 7, 2025)
“Mail Order Magic” by Stephanie Burgis
I needed this story so much. Like the main character, Hayley, I had long covid. My case fortunately didn’t develop into ME/CFS like hers does, and mine only lasted a year, but it dragged down so much of my life even just with a moderate case. Unlike Hayley, I didn’t accidentally buy a griffin. In this world, mythical creatures returned when humans retreated to their homes for lockdown. At first she’s not sure if she can care for the creature, given her illness, but she quickly realizes her life is better with the griffin in it. (Sunday Morning Transport—March 2, 2025)
“Nothing Good Without a Price” by Martin Cahill
Workers at the call center for Mooneye Security dread the end of the year. That’s when the calls get dark. That’s when they stop asking questions. That’s when they do whatever they can to solve the problem as quickly as they can with as little side effects to themselves as possible. Problems like users being trapped in their houses, nearly being killed by their car, and mystery figures wandering their property. This was a very creepy story! Martin Cahill wrote it in second person POV, which was such a good choice. Makes it feel all the more personal. (Weird Horror—Spring 2025; issue 10)
“Old Wells” by Thomas Ha
When our narrator was a child, he would wander the mountainside near his home searching for old, abandoned wells. “I’d speak secret fears into their mouths and listen to the clack of pebbles I’d toss down. And my whispers and laughs and sobbing would return, always return, back the way they came.” No matter what the wells told him, it was better than being at home. One particular well draws his attention. The echo that responds to him wants out. A haunting story that doesn’t end the way you expect. Here, the horror lies in the real world, not the fantastical. (Three-Lobed Burning Eye—Spring 2025; issue 44)
“Peace” by Phoenix Mendoza
Years after an alien invasion that killed most people, our narrator and her partner Lorna make a living doing dangerous work: “ride to the edge of the defense shield’s perimeter, and kill anything that tries to cross it.” The aliens are able to manipulate the mind to show them their dead relatives, forcing them to kill people they loved over and over again. Neither of them share much about their pasts. It seems like a grim existence, but like other stories on this list, it ends with hope. We survive not because we have to but because we want to, because we want to find something good in a terrible world. We may not be able to fix everything, but we can carve out a little slice of peace. (Luna Station Quarterly—March 2025; issue 61)
“What Was Lost Can Be Returned” by Carol Scheina
“Reviews call it the most magical shop in the marketplace, but there are no products displayed. It’s just an oily wooden stand with a rusty sign squeaking above. In faded gray paint are the lopsided words: “Return to You.”” You enter a strange shop and are given an even stranger gift. The shop delivers something you lost, and you have the choice to keep it or return it to yourself. I wish this were a real thing. There are so many things I lost track of when I was younger that I would better appreciate now, or that I would’ve liked to have held onto a little longer. Loved the story. (Hexagon—Spring 2025; issue 20)
“The Witches Who Drowned” by R.J. Becks
Our narrator is hired by the Navy to do a deep-sea dive in a submersible nicknamed the WASP. While exploring the pitch blackness of the aphotic zone, something bumps into the WASP. More accurately, someone. Our narrator becomes obsessed with that human-like sea creature and takes every opportunity the Navy offers to return underwater. Eventually, they realize that the scientific work they love to do comes at great social and political cost. Science isn’t apolitical; it can be weaponized just like anything else. (Diabolical Plots—March 17, 2025; issue 121B)