by Harold Gross.
“The Wriggling Death” is a Pseudopod original. The author says: “Best listened to with a cuppa and biscuit? This piece would not exist were it not for a tour of the Monterrey Aquarium by friend and fellow author, Pat McEwan, whose explanations of the strangest of sea life inspired the story.”
HAROLD GROSS has previously published in Fantasy & Science Fiction, Analog, other magazines, and several anthologies. Currently, “The Song Giveth…” is serialized in issues 9-12 of the online magazine, Aethernet, based in the UK but also available electronically in the US. While he appears most often as Harold Gross, his collaborative alter-ego, Gordon Gross, appears in several venues. In addition to writing, Harold has also been caught in live and recorded performances on stage and screen. His blog at The 5 a.m. Critic currently contains a wide range of non-spoiler movie reviews as well as links to available reprints and current publications.
Your reader – Veronica Giguere – is a narrator of many genres, most notably for the Secret World Chronicle podcast novel series (which she narrates, produces and writes along with Mercedes Lackey, Cody Martin and Dennis Lee) and the cyberpunk noir podcast novel, Broken, co-written with Cedric Johnson. She can be found at www.voicesbyveronica.com and at Amazon and Smashwords. When not behind a microphone or slaving away on words, she works to release her soul from higher education in the pursuit of her doctorate.
“After finding the dell, we walked homeward in a more subdued fashion. After only a few steps, the contemplative silence was broken by the rustling of leaves behind us. We stopped in our tracks. We’d outrun Deaths all our lives and, in high Season, had even gone off into the desert to protect ourselves. More than enough females were willing to accept them into themselves and breed for as long as their accelerated aging would allow. There were always those that wanted to bear young. But that wasn’t Chalen or myself, thank you. We had our voices and our music and our fans. That was enough.
Something about that sound in that place, though, froze us. Then, as we listened more carefully, we could hear that there were more on both sides of us boxing us in. We began to run toward the house and the hedges. Sanctuary.”