My hands shake, indenting the lip of the ceramic cup I'm molding. I swivel and look at the other android artisans on the factory floor, robotic hands ablur ensuring each cup is perfect—and they ... [+]
Dale Stromberg grew up not far from Sacramento before moving to Tokyo, where he had a brief music career. Now he lives near Kuala Lumpur and makes ends meet as an editor and translator. His work has been published here and there. "Tints and Hues" is in Short Circuit #08, Short Édition's quarterly review.
Bellatrix Sakakino worked for a commercial bank, focusing on securities valuation and research, and nobody liked her. This was because of her tints and hues. The colors emanating from her person were too raw and vivid, oversaturated, garish. They struck the eye with nauseating force. She was a crackerjack on the job, but those around her shied away. Then one day, she began to fade. At first, she didn't notice. People at the office, finding the sight of her easier to bear, started speaking to her beyond what was necessary. A handful of her coworkers—amiable pastels, chirpy neons, au courant gra