Happy Belated IPSTP Day!
Whoops, missed the day.

I haven't got anything new, but I do have "Footprints." I sold it to Postcards From Hell: The First Thirteen a while back. It's one of my few very short pieces.



Footprints
by Ann Leckie


The ground was a soft, springy mat of blue-gray mosslike something. Cooper's boots left shapeless dents. He could poke a finger into it, and make a hole that closed over immediately. And he could push a torn and empty ration carton down into it and it would slowly re-emerge full, as though it had never been opened. It was unnerving. But it had kept him alive.

"How far?" he asked the little girl walking beside him. He'd asked before.

"A long way," she said, and smiled and tilted her head, blond curls swinging. He'd found her the day after the crash, sitting on the endless blue-gray plain, tattered Mr. Bear in her lap. When he'd asked her name, she had frowned, not understanding. She couldn't possibly be human, and why she appeared to him as she did, or was able to communicate with him, Cooper didn't know. But he was grateful--she had taught him about the moss. He might have starved otherwise.

"Tell me about the tooth fairy again," she said, eyes wide.

"He'll lie again," said Mr. Bear. One button eye hung precariously from a worn thread.

The damn bear. Or not, just like the girl wasn't a girl. They were the only beings he'd encountered since his crash-landing. It felt like he'd walked halfway around the planet with them.

He turned, even though he knew there was no way to gauge the distance he'd walked. Behind him were the dents their feet made, except... "There's only one set."

"Of teeth?" asked the little girl, stopping as he stopped.

"Of footprints." The double set only stretched back a few yards and then suddenly were a single track. "But..." His own seemed to disappear.

"I want to hear about the tooth fairy," the girl insisted. "Does she have wings? Does she wear a pink dress and ballerina shoes?"

"There's no tooth fairy," said Mr. Bear. "We pulled out every last one, and none of them grew back."

The little girl held the bear in front of her, arms straight. "They did."

"Not the way he said. And no coins either." It hung motionless in her grip. "I liked the screaming, though."

Cooper had found the bear unnerving from the moment it had first spoken. He ignored it. "Listen, honey, I really need to contact my people. I need to tell them where I am."

"We know," she said. "We're taking you."

"It just seems like it's an awfully long way."

"It is an awfully long way." She tucked the bear under her arm head first and started off again.

"I'm hungry again," said Mr. Bear, upside down and backwards.

Cooper caught up with them in a few long strides. "What does Mr. Bear eat?" he asked.

She put her hand in his. "Does the tooth fairy have a pony?"

"A sparkly pony with long, pink hair," said Cooper. "And lots of teeth."

The little girl laughed. "I like you. You're funny."

"And delicious," said Mr. Bear.