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wanted to hear the answer or not, so she could put it all behind her.
    She sank her fork into the fluffy cake and held it beneath her nose. She breathed in the smell of chocolate, and beneath it something spicy that tickled her nose...magic.
    Before she could back out, she popped the bite into her mouth. It was moist and chocolaty and perfect. Gram's recipe, generations old by the time she learned it, never failed.
    She swallowed and sat back, waiting for the magic to take hold. It warmed her throat and stomach like a shot of whiskey, then spread to her fingers and toes. When it had taken root in every molecule of her body, she summoned.
    "Mother," she whispered.
    A figure shimmered to life before her, clearly human, but the features unreadable.
    "Madilyn," it said.
    She'd watched enough home videos to know her mother's voice. A lump formed in her throat. She had little time, though, so she forced the words past it. "I have a question for you." She took a deep breath, folded her trembling hands in her lap, and hesitated. Her heart was a wild mess in her chest. Did she really need to hear this? Did she want to?
    The figure flickered like a bulb about to die. Madilyn's mind spun. She had to ask her question quickly.
    "If there was one thing you could have done over when you were alive, what would it be?"
    Such a long moment passed that she began to think she'd waited too long. Then the figure said, "I can't say I wouldn't have left."
    Madilyn squeezed her eyes shut. She knew she shouldn't have asked a question.
    "But," the figure continued, "I would have taken you. Your father might have been a decent provider, but he was a terrible husband. My life was such a mess right after you were born, I thought you'd be better off with my mother. And when I finally got my act together, too much time had passed. I thought maybe you'd hate me, and I couldn't bear that, so I stayed away." She paused. "And there is the answer to your question."
    The figure faded, the last faint wisps drifting away as if on a breeze.
    So her mother had worried that Madilyn hated her even as Madilyn worried that her mother didn't love her. How different would her life be if only her mother hadn't been afraid? She shook her head at all the wasted years. There was no going back now, only forward, always forward.
    Madilyn packed up a slice of chocolate cake for Gram before blowing out the candles and leaving the bakery.
     
    ABOUT THE AUTHOR
    Rebecca is the author of Shards of History. Her short fiction has appeared or is forthcoming in publications such as Stupefying Stories, Plasma Frequency, and Fantasy Scroll Magazine, and she is a graduate of the Odyssey Writing Workshop. When she's not writing, she's usually spending time with her family, torturing patients as a physical therapist, or eating copious amounts of chocolate.

e-razored
    By J.S. Watts
    Warmth. The smell of fresh, damp soil. The raucous euphoria of this planet 's dawn chorus: joyous cries from the indigenous fauna in the branches overhead and the metallic sound of her survival canisters being violently overturned.
    Grabbing the nearest heavy object, she rushes out of the perma-shelter to find a man crouched down and rummaging vigorously through her formerly well-stacked kit. He 's grubby and unshaven and dressed in the same grey, utilitarian one-piece she's wearing. She yells at him and he looks up, grinning. The grin is not reassuring.
    " It's my lucky day: life support cans, an erect and fully functioning shelter, and its rather luscious, brunette lady occupant. I like brunettes."
    She takes a firmer grip on the universal wrench in her hand and says nothing.
    "Aren't you going to say hi, babe? No? Do you have a name or is the planet-jump still screwing with your memory?"
    She 's not going to admit to any weakness. Instead, she says, "They're my cans you're rifling. I get to ask the questions. What's your name, and what do you think you're doing?"
    " Well, I admit I'm still a bit hazy about the