http://www.strangehorizons.com/guidelines/art.shtml

http://www.strangehorizons.com/guidelines/fiction.shtml

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Attempt #1

I admit I was hopeful, as anyone would be who had seen every commercial, sat through the orientation, spent years looking for what this service promised to instantly provide. I was also skeptical, again common, since few people step into any sort of dating service without believing they're going to have the same results there that they've had in normal life - that is, one or two miserable dates and nothing resulting from them but the occasional STD. Most of all though, I was bored, and I was desperate. I suspect these two are also common, though it's not something most people talk about. Still, with the latest law change in effect, I had only a few months to come up with proof that I was a viable citizen, and so far my few attempts had been spectacular failures.

I paged for the hundredth time through one of the sample catalogues as I waited in what could have been any doctor's waiting room in the country. The paintings were bland, unoffensive to most eyes, designed to be soothing in a cookie-cutter way. The magazines were all over a year old, and most of them advertised either new diet plans, new exercise routines, or new rich-and-sinful recipies, sometimes all three on the same cover.

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http://www.theharrow.com/journal/submissions.php

http://www.reflectionsedge.com/submit.html

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Take as much time as you need, my cat. I'll be here when you return.

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Just taking mental notes, for later, and sending a few messages. *shrug* I'm also working on a project... a box, simple wood with a bit of cheap brass here and there, but slowly it's becoming more.

Paint glistening with flecks of gold. More gold and brass and copper, dusted on, rubbed into the wood, staining it redder, brighter. Charms, dangling from a brass chain - a crescent moon, a collection of tiny goldtone beads mixed with brass and copper and gold gears, a cheap little goldtone tin book charm, an old, worn oriental coin, and four letters etched into brass beads that form a word in the tongue I still favor. Four more letters, turned into a single twisting sigil that marks the lid, this one in English, if somewhat unreadable at first glance. Soft suede lining the bottom. A glimmering ribbon ensuring the box can never completely open, never allow its contents to escape. I'm happy with the effects so far, though it's far from done. I'll be working on this particular box for quite a while.

The contents... let me list off the tarot reading I did recently, instructions for acquiring such things and keeping them.

For the physical: nine of disks, Gain. Wealth shared, offered and taken, and as well the pleasures of the flesh given, granted, taken, shared.

For the mental: five of wands, Strive. Reaching, always reaching, for new conflict and new battles, for the fiery near-spiritual power that only such conflict can raise. Also four of wands, Completion. Again that fire, made whole, every part of the mind taken, every part of the battle explored and won, no stone left unturned.

For the spiritual: The Devil. Temptation, the hint of cunning and even evil... and as well, the age-old choice between Eve and Lilith, offered temptingly; the simple act of such temptation placed before you is enough to damn you, after all.

For the emotional: ten of swords, Ruin. A mental defeat leading to emotions in chaos, humiliation, suffering, the agony of the heart, the shame of love given freely and unreturned.

And for the rest of the world to see: ace of disks, a card of success and of new things in matters physical. Picture a man atop a mountain, proud, conquering... and within the mountain itself is the greatest wealth and challenge, a single gleaming onyx coin, a prize always leading the man on to greater risks and never truly gained, certainly never won... though it could, perhaps, be earned. *grin* Payment can be a thing that is both physical success and the utter destruction of the mind, the heart, and the soul.

At this point, at least one person knows what this box is going to hold. Perhaps he's the only one who knows; perhaps others at least guess. It doesn't really matter though, since the soon-to-be contents, already trickling in, will be Mine regardless.

He knows this too. He's the one who offered the treasure this lovely box will hold.