“Loki, Sipping Mai Tais on Daytona Beach” • by Duke Kimball

 

The God of Thunder picks a wedgie. Loki grins. “I think you look quite fetching in Bermuda shorts.”

“It’s too hot.” Thor wipes his sunburned brow and continues sweeping the metal detector. “Why you’d bury Mjölnir in this cursed land…” Another beep. Another bottlecap. Another curse.

“It’s called Florida.” Loki takes a sip. “A joke. We needed a break from the snow.”

“I like snow.” Thor picks another wedgie.

“It could be worse.” Loki motions to Odin’s hairy belly, flopped over his Speedo.

One-Eye waves, then turns away, revealing the Allfather’s thong.

Thor winces. “Cursed land.”

And the trickster laughs.

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Duke Kimball is a literary boat captain who doesn’t currently own a boat. His work has appeared in places like Mysterion, Star*Line, and Strange Horizons. He lives in Lansing, Michigan, with his wife Michelle and a dog named after a cheese factory.

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“At Wits’ End” • by Roxana Arama

“It’s so hot and my A/C is broken,” I told the Tarot card reader. “Last winter, during that cold snap, my furnace froze. My car died before my job interview! My garden wedding is next week and with my bad luck? I can’t sleep, I’m terrified.”

She consulted her cards. “You’re doomed.”

“No! Is there something—”

“Cancel the wedding.”

“What? No…”

I left her place, tears blurring my vision.

The bus was arriving when my phone pinged. The message from my fiancé read, “It’s so damn hot, we must cancel the wedding.”

My jaw dropped. Good news—at last.

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Roxana Arama is a Romanian-American writer and a member of Codex Writers’ Group. She has an MFA in Creative Writing from Goddard College, her work has been acknowledged in several literary contests and magazines, and she maintains the website Rewriting History: How writers turn history into story, and story into history at www.roxanaarama.com. She lives in Seattle with her family. Follow her on Twitter at @RoxanaArama.

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“The Secret to a Happy Marriage” • by Carol Scheina

 

In their seven years of marriage, Gino had never kissed his wife.

He watched other dragons kissing, forked tongues darting about, wrapped in curls of blue flame and white smoke.

His soft human lips could never endure such heat, but with a freeze spell, maybe he’d be able to withstand just one peck before the ice melted. Almadine deserved that, and more. He told her his plan.

Almadine smiled with sharp teeth, yellow eyes on Gino. “Kissing is overrated. Besides, we’ve managed other things.” Her head snaked toward the bedroom in suggestion.

Gino thought his wife had never looked hotter.

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Carol Scheina is a deaf speculative fiction author whose short stories have appeared in Escape Pod, Daily Science Fiction, The Arcanist, and other publications. You can find more of her work at carolscheina.wordpress.com.

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“Me Time” • by Lorraine Schein

 

It’s cold as hell down here—which is where I live now, so I should know.

My husband Hades likes the cold, but I’ve never gotten used to it. It can never be too hot for me.

“Hades dear, I need a vacation to a warmer climate.”

“Okay ‘Sephie sweetie, I’ll ask Hermes to book you a trip to Circe’s island.”

 I got a wing-mail from Hermes later.

“Circe’s Resort is booked-up for Olympian Couples Counseling Week. How about Mykonos?”

“That’s fine.” I happily pack my bikini.

Soon I’m on the beach, waiting for sunrise. Apollo is so hot!

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Lorraine Schein is a New York writer. Her work has appeared in VICE Terraform, Strange Horizons, Enchanted Conversation, Mermaids Monthly, and in the anthology Tragedy Queens: Stories Inspired by Lana del Rey & Sylvia Plath. The Futurist’s Mistress, her poetry book, is available from Mayapple Press: www.mayapplepress.com 

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“Too Hot to Handle” • by Ray Daley

 

I’ve been inside the reactor fourteen times. Now I’m in the cleanroom, wondering if I can bear one final trip to repair the injector system.

If I don’t, everyone is dead. And if I do, that’s me done, forever. Two minutes. That’s all the time I’ve got. Then my eyes are gone. If I make it out alive, I’m gonna need more than ice cream to get me over this.

There’s no coin toss. I’ve got to do it. Or we all die.

Time to go back inside. Think cool thoughts, pray for snow? If only.

It’s too darn hot. 

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Ray Daley was born in Coventry and still lives there. He served six years in the RAF as a clerk and spent most of his time in a Hobbit hole in High Wycombe. He is a published poet and has been writing stories since he was ten. His current dream is to eventually finish the Hitchhiker’s Guide fanfic novel he’s been writing since 1986. Tweet him @RayDaleyWriter or check out his web site at https://raymondwriteswrongs.wordpress.com/

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“What’s a Monster to Do?” • by Melissa Mead

 

When I was young and my fangs were sharp, I devoured half a dozen humans a day, and munched their pets for dessert. Those miserable bipeds trembled at the merest glimpse of my shadow.

Then I made the mistake of catching dinner on their Taco Night. That infernal belch, and its aftermath, brought every wretched biped in a five-block radius running. 

Now they all wear ristras of chilies around their necks, munch on habaneros, and give their babies jalapeños to suck on. They even douse their dogs with something called Spot’s Hot & Spicy Sauce.

It’s a disaster! Alas, Monsters of a Certain Age just can’t handle hot peppers.

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Melissa Mead lives in upstate New York with the imaginary people in her head. Her web site is here: https://carpelibris.wordpress.com/

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“The Summer of Phoenix Spotting” • by Sylvia Heike

 

The summer heat had become unbearable long before the first phoenix arrived. Always soaring above my house, I feared the moment it might land on the roof.

Next came the birdwatchers, sweating as they carried their telescopes and propped tripods in the scorched field. How they endured the heat, I’ll never know, and indeed many dragged themselves into the shadow of my house, collapsing with a crazed happiness on their faces. 

The birders kept coming. Until, fed up with their advances, the phoenix vanished from the sky. Leaving.

Wish I had somewhere to go. Today, ten more birds showed up.

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Sylvia Heike is a speculative fiction writer from Finland. She likes hiking, nature photography, books, bunnies, and birds. Her stories have appeared in Flash Fiction Online and elsewhere. To find out more, visit her website, https://sylviaheike.com, or follow her on Twitter @sylviaheike

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