My brothers and sisters always tease me. I can’t swim as fast as they do though, my little legs never pushing as hard as theirs through the water. It comes at no surprise that I am the last one to leave home. When I do, I proudly pull myself out of the wet hole with my new arms, ready to join the others. I can’t see them but I follow their calls from the nearby forest. As I crawl and hop with glee across the grass, I don’t see the raven above me until its beak closes around my neck.
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Sitting on Aine's Cursed Stone by Crystal N. Ramos"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Harbinger of Death by Jonathan L. Tolstedt"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Famine Man by Deborah Tapper"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="The Price of Belief by Andreas Flögel"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
