Beyond the Dome
It wasn’t long ago. The Wendershtae
were humans living on the world of Ix,
the third galactic belt, inside a dome
constructed from a form of iron-ice:
a cubic crystal that could never melt,
nor chip, and not be swallowed. History
would tell us that the Wendershtae were doomed
to freeze to death the moment they arrived;
And yet they might have lived if not for one
persuasive soul, whose name from history
we strike and strike again, who thought the world
beyond the dome of iron-ice was warm.
Not merely warm, but livable-- a heaven
writ upon the world of Ix, if those
inside the dome would reach their hands and grasp!
Debates were had; the facts were cast aside,
and spoils went to those with silver tongues.
Then, to the last, they marched into the cold
and froze to death.
Child, if you cross the Gate from here to Ix,
you’ll see a city’s worth of statues made
of iron-ice, frozen solid and surprised.
Millennia cannot erase the shock
upon their faces, led so far astray
by one with silver tongue and ill intent.
Lesson's End
She’s made a door to anywhere but here,
this student rising, proud and uncontrolled;
now all she has to do is disappear.
She’d sought him out to learn—to tame her fear
of magic spells, in hopes of spinning gold.
She’s made a door to anywhere but here.
The wizard cast aside concerned veneers
and beat her 'til she did as she was told.
Now all she has to do is disappear.
Her master made it absolutely clear
that portal magic only served the bold.
(She’s made a door to anywhere but here.)
The universe, in folding, just might shear
in half her master’s tower, grey and cold.
Now all she has to do is disappear.
She tore the sky asunder, cavalier,
then gathered all the treasure she could hold.
She’s made a door to anywhere but here—
now all she has to do is disappear.
Until Tomorrow
We were going
to go to the park and see the little dragons
flitting amidst seven world’s worth of flowers
in bloom at once. The symphony of scents
reminds you of everybody’s homes,
and all the lands you’ve seen, and how
we bring the best of ourselves
when we work together to build.
The Library sits not far from the park,
and you always joke, you’ll find the perfect book today,
as if the sum total of all knowledge
had only one perfect story for anyone.
When we checked the calendar
and saw the storm magic was set
for a downpour in the park, I demurred,
and you insisted, and I was soaked,
and then we laughed, and we found
a spell at your place where we could
feel warmer than binary stars. And we said
we would go again tomorrow,
rain magic or shine magic,
because that's what we always said,
because there was always a tomorrow
until there wasn’t.
Author’s Biography
Brian Hugenbruch is the author of more than fifty speculative fiction stories and poems. His poetry has most recently appeared in Dreams & Nightmares, Star*Line, and Silver Blade, and is forthcoming in Analog. He lives in Upstate New York with his wife and their daughter, and he spends his days trying to explain quantum cryptography to another nerds. He enjoys fishing (but only in video games); Scotch (but only in real life); and yoga (but not as often as he should). You can find him on BlueSky / the web @the-lettersea.com, on IG/Threads @the_lettersea, and on other social media platforms (grudgingly). No, he's not certain how to say his last name either.
