A Warm Place (III)
After a moon had passed, none of us could rise from our furs, weakened by my grandfathers curse. We watched helpless as another one of the children succumbed to the wasting of the curse, and I vowed it was the last.
Fiction
A collection of 29 issues
The Warm Place (II)
Lack of food during our long hunt for the cave must have weakened us, for even the womenfolk were capable of faster digging than the hunting party. Our newcomers brought the last of the village’s food with them, the winter stores of dried venison and hard bread
The Warm Place
The approaching thunder warned us of the coming apocalypse. Long shadows cast across the mountains of a rugged range. Peaks worn and weathered by the stains of time. Echoes of past memories, imprinted through the ever-changing landscape. Tents of our forefathers, falling down around our ears.
Raspberry jello
We’d sit, working out, playing games, smoking, just to ease the boredom, and then boom: the red light would flash, the siren would sound, and we’d rush out to the latest inter-dimensional transportation disaster.
Bar
He sits, and watches, drinking, the gun sits heavy on his hip, its dark wooden handle rubbed to a polish by the hands of lawmen and murderers alike. His eyes rove around the dimly lit bar, as a wordless tune warbles from half-blown speakers overhead, fuzzing and hissing with every drum beat.
Chains
They chained him to the aft railing as the sun beat down on his sandy, unwashed hair. The sails above hung limp above, the only movement from crew and the ship itself as it listed, gently, port and aft, on this becalmed Wednesday, the fifth in a row. The captain
Rocking
“It touched me, it touched me, and they washed me clean.” The girl sits, long brown hair covering her face, rocking back and forth, on a sea foam floor, chin on her knees, such an ugly colour, pulled up close to her chest, rocking back and forth. “It touched me,
The Desert
Tabitha trudged through the sandy desert under the cool moonlight, shivering as the wind rose; whipping the sand into little tornadoes and chilling her to the bone. Sun and moon traded places in the sky with no interval she could discern. The night felt calmer, almost benevolent. The day, with
Fixer
The pain was a constant in Jane's life. Womanly pains, childbirth pains, man pains, the pain of cleaning, the pain of cooking. Oh, god, her life was so boring. She was turning into her mother, that bitch of a drama queen. Nothing would make her mother happier. She may as
Too late
She jumps from the moving train, not waiting for it to slow, her only thought; getting there in time to save him. Her skirt flies above her knees as she runs recklessly, off the platform, down the stairs, through the tunnel leading to sunlight. Blinking in the sudden brightness, she
Kiss
When we kiss I taste your sorrow. Your sadness gladdens my heart, staunches my wounds. The desecration of your soul bathes me in beauty; I can finally see the wonder in something broken. A shattered figurine upon the ground. The leavings, pieces of you torn asunder, rent from the fibre
Fog (II)
I walked through fog like a drowning cat, each step an agonizing dance of pain, instead of the rats that sputtered their last breaths on the diseased streets I fought back and stood tall in the miasma of death.
Fog
The fog rolls in, slowly at first, enveloping and wrapping around the street corners, where the ladies of the night ply their trade. The quiet sounds of the tousled leaves as the wind sighs into the night. Alluring. The fog begins to thicken, tendrils now reaching out, reaching towards the