This month’s featured story is “A Tree Among Blades.” Set in a forest among dead trees (and, importantly, one very alive oak), the story attempts to illustrate the way that grief is infectious. The connection between the living and the dead may extend beyond the veil, but what happens if it does? While writing this I wanted to explore the idea of being consumed by a mindless collective in death. So much of our media and past has relied on the idea of retaining your individuality or consciousness in death, so possibly the creepiest idea is not that you’ll cease to exist, but that your existence may be subverted and irreparably altered by an ethereal force. Here, the great oak isn’t content to corrupt those it claims in death, but rather seeks to weaponize its corruption to lure new prey to its branches. That said, it was a fun story to write.
By Dillon Jackson
There’s no room for life in this place. So why are you here? Your suit is spotless. You smile. Laugh. People never reach this tree, never whole, and yet you’re here nonetheless. You glide among weeping groves and wilted leaves like a living specter, free from rot. The spores beneath your feet reach for your soul, can you feel them?
Lonely Reflections 
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