A moon explodes and a marriage dies. An impossible creature rises from the tall grass, watches a farmer’s circle system crawl across the field like a giant insect. That farmer watches back. His wife’s footprints are there in the dirt. The fire in the sky leaves his shadow crisp and deep.
This is Texas without the cowboy hat. This is Texas with a soft rain of cosmic debris sifting down over it. This is a dark, dangerous thing hiding in the cellar, but this is also a girl threading her bangs out of her face and smiling with her eyes at a boy.
This is that impossible creature, love.
This is Sterling City.
Sterling City is mesmerizing, horrifying, strange, and you can’t put it down. It has a kind of stark poetry in the concision and clarity of its prose. Another great example of why you should be reading Stephen Graham Jones —Jeff Vandermeer