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Matt Dovey

12:00am, 17th February 2022

ephemera post-reading... post

If I have cast the bones correctly, this post should be magically going up just as ephemera 27: Companionship is starting on YouTube. My theory being, hopefully, that you're coming here to get the rest of the story I just read a bit of! In which case GOOD NEWS I have foreseen your need and prepared links for you:

Did you miss the live reading? WELL GOOD NEWS FOR YOU TOO the video is on YouTube and I've embedded it for you after the jump:

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TAGS: appearance


1:31pm, 10th February 2022

ephemera Reading - 16th Feb

The word The ephemera reading series has been run by Jen R. Albert and KT Bryski for a few years now, and featured some incredible writers during that time.

Rather excitingly, I'm now going to be one of them.

ephemera 27: Companionship will be live on YouTube on Wednesday 16th February at 7pm EST (so 0:00 Thursday 17th Feb UTC--going to be a late night for me) and will also feature readings by Vanessa Fogg and Tiffany Morris, plus a visual performance by Illestpreacha. I'll be reading an excerpt from a short; you should come watch, so you too can find out if I can pull off wearing my usual waistcoat-and-tie writer uniform over pyjama bottoms.

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TAGS: appearance


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About

Matt Dovey is a writer of short speculative fiction. He is very tall, very British, and probably drinking a cup of tea right now. His surname rhymes with “Dopey”, but any other similarities to the dwarf are purely coincidental. More →

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You're not a person, they say, circling. You're one of Them. From the other side.

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Last night, I dreamt of the drowned man again.

It starts with a murmur. A prayer, slithering through a sleeping shipmate's lips. Or perhaps a confession, or a memory caught in the fog of the ghostly hours before dawn. It lingers little down here, in the stale air heavy with the stench of urine and unwashed bodies. Soon it rises higher, amidst the sails and the riggings, hungry for fresh air. Then comes the scratching against the ship's hull. Grip by grip, claw-like hands dig into the wood dragging upwards God knows what.

Drowned Man's Kiss by Christine Lucas
Tales to Terrify #409

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