I’m quite taken with the Christmas-card-semi-issue that Farthing has sent to subscribers (and recent ex-subscribers like myself):
If you can’t quite tell, what it is is a gatefold card printed with 11 short-short stories and a photograph of a gargoyle in a Christmas hat. Most of the stories are basically jokes (several about Christmas In Tha Future); my favourite, though, is this one:
Solstice by Claire Light
What does solstice mean in a twin star system? When is the longest night of the year on a planet with no night? How do you sing carols in a pressure suit, your vocal cords, now removed — a preventive measure — vibrating in phantom minors? How do you toast the dying year through your catheter? My winter, even back on Earth, was a rainy season; my skin still dark against an equatorial sun left behind. I forget I am here to avoid extremes of heat and cold, love and hatred. Oranges here would be worth a man’s life; coal worth diamonds.
So, Merry Christmas y’all. I’ll be back on Boxing Day.