Shira Lipkin

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Shira Lipkin has managed to convince Strange Horizons, Apex Magazine, Stone Telling, Clockwork Phoenix 4, and other otherwise-sensible magazines and anthologies to publish their work; two of their stories have been recognized as Million Writers Award Notable Stories, and they have won the Rhysling Award for best short poem. Their nonfiction has appeared at Salon. They credit luck, glitter eyeliner, and tenacity. They co-edit Liminality, a magazine of speculative poetry, with Mattie Joiner, and co-produce and co-host burlesque shows with Lucky Charming as Viscous & Tingle. They live in Boston. Their cats are bigger than their dog.

Stories · Posts


Jan 9, 2019 · 998 words (4 minutes)

Fantasy Horror Literary Fiction Strange

When I was twenty years old, my best friends and I stepped off the edge of the world. Michael died yesterday. These two things have everything and nothing to do with each other. People aren’t made to do what we did. Or maybe they are, and they just aren’t made to come back.

Las Vegas Nevada signage in Las Vegas, U.S.A. during nighttime
I Am Thinking of You in the Spaces Between

Jan 9, 2019 · 1,802 words (7 minutes)

Literary Fiction Science Fiction

You’d heard of the accident, of course. Everyone had. How the first passenger transport to use a Between gate didn’t come out exactly right. How fourteen of us survived—but changed. How we now have the ability to walk between worlds. Not a simple folding of spacetime, like the Between engine was designed for. But actually walking into the between, walking straight into another universe. I was twelve. I got off the transport into a sea of cameras and haven’t really shaken them off since.

Salt Brides

Jan 9, 2019 · 735 words (3 minutes)


iPhone wallpaper

Jan 9, 2019 · 2,152 words (8 minutes)

Fantasy Literary Fiction Love Science Fiction Strange

pile of papers

Jan 9, 2019 · 3,488 words (13 minutes)

Fantasy Horror Strange

Katabasis, Vegas style.

The Angel of Fremont Street

Jan 9, 2019 · 2,097 words (8 minutes)

Fantasy Horror Strange

The flimsier ones look almost like abandoned plastic bags or discarded call-girl calling cards whirling precariously in a too-slight breeze. These are the personifications of “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” - false faces slipped on for a weekend and left behind, left to pile up in the corners of the Strip like any other trash. The flimsies always try to cling to anyone solid. They never realize that she’s a discard, too.

giant black stiletto sandal decor