Author: eskaftun

Postcards: Passageways

eskaftun
Image of a very iced-over door alone in an empty field, with a small person in the distance
Dear Freddie,
Magic is cryptic AF. Worse than one of those escape rooms. The huldufólk who took Victor said we’d find him “through the door” that no key could open. It could be opened by performing “our people’s folk dance.” We tried a lot of different things, let me tell you, because we’ve got roots from everywhere—polka, hora, square dance, even flamenco. (We also tried a blowtorch to melt the ice; it weirdly didn’t work at all!) I’m actually mad that what opened that fucking door was Henry doing the YMCA. Anyway, you’re welcome. We got your boyfriend back.
Love, Neil
Image of a very narrow street lined with bright orange trees.
Dear Sarah,
Go see the foliage, you said. It’ll be fun. Until the car broke down on some back road. Google maps showed a repair shop ahead. I started walking, but I went the wrong way, and when I retraced my steps, the road looked totally different. More trees. Bigger ones. Leafier. I thought I was lost again until I saw my car, almost fully swallowed by the trees. I’d only been gone a few minutes. There are so many trees between me and this supposed repair shop. I’m running for it, but I think the trees are faster than me. If you don’t see me again, treevenge my death.
~Laura

I’ve finally caved and started a Patreon account for these! Subscriptions start at $3/month for early access to postcard stories, and every subscription makes me more excited to keep writing. Hope to see you there!

You can still buy one-off postcards here.

A Taste of Malmö

eskaftun

Eating, drinking, and decidedly not tasting our way across the city

Under the Disgusting Food Museum's logo, a circle with the word "yuck!" in it, are many yellow and red cans of surströmming.
A wall display at the Disgusting Food Museum shows a wealth of canned surströmming (fermented herring), which is one of the worst-smelling foods in the world.

My goal was simple: to eat kanelbullar for breakfast in Sweden. So what if we woke up that morning in Denmark? In Europe, countries can be shockingly close together. Like, say, separated by the narrow Øresund between the island of Zealand and the mainland of Sweden.

In my opinion, a day trip from Copenhagen to Malmö was a must. Part of it was the lure of pastries, but it’s not like Denmark is slacking in the pastry category. The real draw was the opportunity to utter sentences like “we took a day trip to Sweden,” and to add another entry to the list of countries I’ve visited.

Continue reading “A Taste of Malmö” →

Cryptid Corner, Episode Two

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Nordic Seducers

Welcome back to Cryptid Corner! Today, world-renowned cryptozoologist Dr. Veronica L. Raptor of the infamous Innsmouth Institute is here to talk about about creatures you might encounter in the Scandinavian woods.

This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

EMILY C. SKAFTUN: If you think Nordic cryptozoology is synonymous with trolls, you’re in for a treat today. Dr. Raptor is here to tell us about not one but two monsters—can I call them that?—inhabiting the wild north.

VERONICA L. RAPTOR: In this case, I’d say monstrosity is in the eye of the beholder. Or the attitude of the beholder, at least. If you are polite to huldrefolk, they can bestow on you great fortune. But if you are unkind…

Theodor Kittelsen, “Huldra.”
Continue reading “Cryptid Corner, Episode Two” →

Story alert: “The Wicks Whisper”

eskaftun
Cover of BCS issue 411, with a twisted tree against a greenish sky.

“It’s her. Sort of. It’s a rippling sculpture made of smoke, an eyeless silhouette with a hazy but intact suggestion of wings.”

Imagine you could talk to a dead person—but only once. Would you do it right away, when your grief and memories are fresh, so present they suffocate you? Or would you save that chance like a fine wine, growing dusty in a cellar maybe never to be uncorked? When you finally summoned them, what if their presence didn’t comfort as much as you’d hoped?

Check out my latest story in Beneath Ceaseless Skies! I’m delighted to be back in this terrific publication, edited by the stellar Scott H. Andrews. The story is available as text and audio (read by M.K. Hobson).

Want more stories? The full list is here.

Postcard: New job is a blast!

eskaftun
Retro-style travel postcard of a spitting volcano with rangers in the foreground.

Dear Nikki,
I really like my new job at the volcano. My coworkers seemed cold at first, but they warmed up after that busload of kids went into the cauldron. It was like something from a cartoon: a sign pointed straight off the rim instead of to the parking lot. Every year, it seems, there’s a bonkers accident and people fall in. Awful, right? Still, I can’t shake the feeling that locals are relieved it happened. Like they were edgy before and now they’re more relaxed. Anyway, hope you can visit next year. Bring the kids! We’re planning an amazing, up-close tour.
Love,
Tobey

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Cryptid Corner, Episode One

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The Rougarou

Welcome to Cryptid Corner, an interview series with world-renowned cryptozoologist Dr. Veronica L. Raptor of the infamous Innsmouth Institute—who will offer you an up-close look at monsters from around the world. Among other accomplishments, Dr. Raptor has tracked the migration of jackalopes across the Sonoran Desert, made first contact with yetis displaced by climate change, and co-authored Silent & Deadly, a ground-breaking dictionary of Siren Sign Language.

This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

Mangy-looking rougarou standing among the skulls of people it eats.
A rougarou in the New Orleans zoo.
photo: XxxJohnDoExxxx / Wikimedia Commons

EMILY C. SKAFTUN: Today Dr. Raptor is here to talk about an American monster, the Rougarou. Take it away, won’t you?

VERONICA L. RAPTOR: First of all, Emily, you know how I feel about the word monster. That term is grossly overused, and carries serious negative connotations that not all cryptids deserve. Though in the case of the creature lurking in the marshes of Louisiana, I’ll allow it.

Continue reading “Cryptid Corner, Episode One” →

Postcards: Transformations II

eskaftun
Image of a man wearing only shorts swan diving off a boat, with glaciers in the background
Dear Allison,
The giant seabirds of the Arctic are truly phenomenal. Early in our study, we woke to a thump that shook the whole boat. When we got on deck, instead of an eagle or an albatross, or even a walrus, we found a stunned, nearly naked man. He wouldn’t tell us how he came to be on our boat; he just demanded fish (we gave him a can of tuna) and hit on Bella for a while. Then he said “ciao” and leaped off the stern. We all gasped, thinking of the icy water below. But feathers sprouted from the man’s arms and torso and he soared, disappearing into the white of the sky.
That’s just one of the magnificent new species we’ve catalogued.
Wish you were here!
Dr. Pauline Frost, Ornithologist
Image of a wood-carved cat grinning with human-looking teeth
Dear Hattie,
We followed a new Sphinx legend to a northern land—found it, but it’s quite mad. It grinned with this manic set of un-catlike teeth. It asked Pete to solve a riddle, but we weren’t clear on the stakes—this Sphinx wasn’t guarding anything, and we weren’t questing. The riddle was nonsense, stuff about slithy toves and manxome foes, so of course Pete got it “wrong.” Can there even be a right answer to utter rubbish? The Sphinx bared her human again, and took her prize—Pete’s right hand. She rubbed it greedily against her left paw, muttering “14 more suckers to go.” On the plus side, Pete has a cat’s paw now and it’s pretty darn cute.
See you soon!
Alice

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Postcards: Of Air & Ice

eskaftun
Image of a hiker at the end of a swooping tunnel of ice.
Dear Micah,

As surfers, we recognized the ice for what it was right away: a frozen wave. Deep within, two shapes resolved. One looked like a fur-clad man, tumbling. The other was a fearsome shape, giant and toothy, the largest shark we’d ever seen. I rubbed my eyes to clear the hallucination. The ice played tricks, we’d been told.

But Chad, transfixed, put his bare hand to the ice wall… and stuck. I laughed, at first: “Why not lick it, like a flagpole?” But before the heat of his hand could melt him free, the ice reeled him in. His hand disappeared into the wave, then his arm, and then his screaming face. The ice took him.

Inside that wave, the two figures of my hallucination remained. Only now the massive shark was nearer its prey. And the prey wore Chad’s red hiking jacket.

Love,
Your favorite surfer (at least now!)
Image of colorful kites against a blue sky.
Dear Al,

The rapture came, I think. It wasn’t what we thought. We all ascended—I was shocked! As we rose, we… changed, and not into angels. No halos, no wings, except this one chick who turned into a penguin. Another guy pudged out into this, like, turquoise teddy bear? Several resembled sea creatures. Me? My head became a dang jester hat. Yeah, worst of all of them. When the wind shifted, we fell back to earth. Now I’m all deflated and stuck out here. Is this hell? IDK. Anyway, if you’re still ambulatory please come help.

Love,
Joe

Want your very own postcard story? You can buy one here.
Wondering WTF this is? Start here.