Christopher Owen lives in Colorado with his wife and two cats. His work has appeared at Daily Science Fiction, Mirror Dance, Eleven Eleven Literary Journal, New Myths and other places. He is a graduate of the Odyssey Writing Workshop and the Yale Summer Writers’ Conference.
In my dreams, I’m Romeo, Casanova… Lothario, even. I swirl into a room and the girls swoon, their eyes bright as icicles snapped from the eaves of their flash-frozen hearts. My glance did the freezing, but my touch warms them;… Continue Reading
One last dozen or so, eh, I think to myself as I return to my apartment and see red roses sitting outside my door. It’s Valentine’s Day and my ex-girlfriend must be getting ideas again. Ha! What kind of girl… Continue Reading
Hiking in the woods I found an abandoned baby animal so young I couldn’t fathom what sort of creature it was. It looked a bit like a miniature cow in that way that a new, gangly pup might, but it… Continue Reading
I found Dad at the train yard when I arrived for work. Dressed in overalls and a flannel shirt, he smelled of sulfur and cigarette ash. “Case,” he said, giving me a nod as if we were old chums. “Dad.” … Continue Reading
Arles, France. September, 1888. Dusk fades, but still some blue clings in the darkening sky in which the first stars seem to boil overhead. I like twilight. It is calming to me. Doctor L’Enfant says I should like calming things.… Continue Reading
Winny was in high flight, dancing among cumulus clouds, when she spotted Nicholas. He was a tiny speck sitting on the ground near the muddy banks of a river that flowed turgid and slow. She had been looking for him… Continue Reading