The Peninsula

The Fiction and Poetry Archive of Liana Mir and scribblemyname



She told herself she absolutely, one hundred percent did not have a crush on her father’s best friend. Absolutely not at all.

He was only the most good-looking man she’d ever seen and had ignored her existence for her entire life and was the best fighter in the Guard, possibly even better than her father and he was legendary, and watching the two of them laugh and train together with spears and total mastery totally did not make her mouth go dry and make her wonder why boys her age didn’t look like that.

It wasn’t right.

She watched anyway.

A Way With Them


There’s nothing wrong with babies. Skylight likes them. When they aren’t hers and no one’s asking her when she’s going to produce one.

Her brother’s small daughter is sleeping in her arms, and Skylight’s busily going over reports for things her mother really doesn’t want to know the details of, whether or not she realizes it, when her brother walks in and pushes his glasses up to get a better look.

“You have a way with her.” He smiles. “You ever—?”

“No.” She doesn’t let him finish. She loves her husband, but they agree. They are not having kids.



Joenna Janine Browning stood in front of a viewscreen staring at her five-year-old son. He was bound at the wrists humanely—small consolations—his whole body hunched over as he cried and railed in words that meant less than the intensity of the pain behind them.

“He’ll be a legend, Janenna.” The father’s voice practically glowed.

He had done this to their son. He had delivered him to the Projects without warning or consultation.

Janenna had heard of the Projects, decided not to volunteer herself as a potential supersoldier, never dreamed they were taking children.

She turned to her husband, soon to be ex. “One day, I will kill you for this.”

Practice Makes Perfect


Skylight was unusually warm when she woke up. She noted that Math’s arms had wound snugly around her sometime in the night.

They were undercover. This was an act. At least outside their closed door it was.

She didn’t bother to wake him before kissing him gently, trusting his instincts to be sensitive to the unusual.

It was a safe bet. He woke immediately, hand coming up to brace her. “Skylight?”

She drew back sharply at that, eyebrow raised. “Clearly, you need practice.” He shouldn’t have said her name.

“I guess I do.”

She leaned down to kiss him again.