K. Tempest Bradford

K. Tempest Bradford

Between Boundaries

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Publication: Electric Velocipede 17/18, May 2009 Reviews

…the serpent visited every village, town, country, continent that she had once walked upon, bringing her son upon her again and again.
It is the serpent that shows the way.
The serpent, a servant of the son.
I laid the foundations of the earth
The sun who was once his victim.
I make time itself
She had set the serpent against him.
I am that I am
Now he had set the serpent against her.

Elan Vital
Publication: Sybil’s Garage #6, May 2009 | EscapePod ep. 269 Reviews

The few minutes I had to spend in the Institute’s waiting room were my least favorite part of coming up to visit my mother. It felt more like a dialysis room, the visitors sunk into the overly-soft couches and not speaking, just drinking orange juice and recovering. There were no magazines and no television, just cold air blowing from the vents and generic music flowing with it. I’d finished my juice and was beginning to brood on my dislike for overly air-conditioned buildings when my mother arrived attended by a nurse.
I kissed and hugged her, automatically asking how she was, mouthing the answer she always gave as she gave it again.
“I’m fine, same as always.”
It wasn’t strictly true, but true enough.

Different Day
Publication: Federations, ed. John Joseph Adams. May 2009Reviews

I didn’t pay much attention to the aliens at first. Oh, if you mean like that first week, then yeah, we were scared and hiding and shit like everyone else. But once the whole thing calmed down and everything went back to normal I didn’t spend that much time thinking about them.

Until Forgiveness Comes
Publication: Strange Horizons, November 2008 | A Million Writers Award Notable Story of 2008Reviews

In the ten years since Red Seteshday, the clerics have perfected the haitai ritual to the point where participants know the script by heart and no longer need much direction on where to go and when. Still, Sadana manages a rotating roster of family members and survivors, reminding them of the correct verses to chant while invoking the highlights of that tragic day. Every year she stands on the memorial dais at the center of the concourse marking the time for prayers and the time for reading the names of the dead.

Black Feather
Publication: Interfictions, eds. Delia Sherman and Theodora Goss. April 2007 | PodCastle ep. 123 | Happily Ever After, ed. John Klima Reviews

On the ninth night, she dreamed again. The cabin again. The young men were asleep. She went outside, into the forest, but there was nothing to see. In the garden behind the cabin, twelve lilies grew. She picked one for each brother.
The sound of wings. She looked up. They were ravens again, flying away.
The dream ended.

The Seventh Reflection
Publication: Thou Shalt Not… ed. Lee Allen Howard. September 2006 | Read it OnlineReviews

Clia returned to her desk. She knew what the other kids were saying behind her back. They were probably calling her a suck-up or a lesbian. She didn’t care. Soon it wouldn’t matter.

Hard Rain
Publication: Farthing Magazine issue 2, March 2006

If you are anything like me (and I bet that you are) you have certain expectations in life. Like an expectation that if something is falling out of the sky it will be rain, or maybe snow, a leaf, or possibly an apple…

Change of Life
Publication: Farthing Magazine issue 3, May 2006 | PodCastle, May 2008Reviews

I hate doing chores. Not only did I have to do all the regular stuff, but I had to clean up after two messy dogs, a cat, and a bunny. I asked mom why David and Junior and Kat and Chuckie couldn’t wash the dishes and dust and vacuum and iron, and her face went all blank and she didn’t talk for three straight hours. So I stopped asking stuff like that.

Elf Aware
Publication: Cafe Irreal, issue 8 | PodCastle, March 2009

“I am an elf,” you say to yourself. “I am an elf, I am an elf, I am an elf…”
You keep saying it, first in your mind, then aloud. Over and over. A mantra.
“I am an elf.”

Why I Don’t Drink Anymore
Publication: Abyss & Apex, March 2003

I’m sitting at my favorite café drinking absinthe when this guy comes up to me.
You’re a writer, aren’t you? he says.
Yeah, I says. How did you know?
You have that Hemingway thing going on, he says. Sitting around in a café all day. Drinking absinthe. Scribbling in your little notebook.

What We Make of It
Publication: Peridot Books, 2000





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I'm a writer, most often committing acts of genre (fantasy, science fiction, and other stretches of the imagination). You can find my short stories in many and various magazines and anthologies and podcasts. In addition to being a writer I also engage in activism and fandom -- often both at once.