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"Science Fiction" means—to us—everything found in the science fiction section of a bookstore, or at a science fiction convention, or amongst the winners of the Hugo awards given by the World Science Fiction Society. This includes the genres of science fiction (or sci-fi), fantasy, slipstream, alternative history, and even stories with lighter speculative elements. We hope you enjoy the broad range that SF has to offer.


I could feel his warmth the day we met. I fell in love with the glowing feeling that grew in my chest when I looked into his eyes. I fell in love with the way he loved me--I could feel the adoration, the excitement, the joy he felt when we were together. I could feel his love for me as well as I could feel my love for him.
I could feel his excitement the night he proposed. I knew what was coming because I could feel his apprehension, even before he arrived on my doorstep. I could feel his relief and his joy when I said yes.
I could feel his fear that afternoon by the sea, when I placed his hand on my stomach and told him that he would be a father. It felt cold and frightened, and my heart skipped the same beat as his did, and for the first time, feeling what he felt made him seem far away.
I could feel his longing the night we sat on the porch, staring at the stars. I could feel his regret, and his guilt, and his distance. I could feel every one of his emotions, and he had never felt so far away.
I could feel his sadness and guilt and regret the day he boarded the ship, but I could never forget the feeling of his excitement and joy and relief as it took off for the stars. I've remembered the feeling of that sickening joy every day since.
I could only feel my own tears fall the day his body returned to Earth. I could only feel my own heart ache the day we lowered him into the ground. But I never felt anything from him again.
The End
This story was first published on Thursday, January 19th, 2017
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