On the last world of a distant and lonely system, there was a circus made of light.
Rider sits in the dark and listens to the click-clack of the wheels, to the heaving of the engine. He was born here, with the rhythm of the rails in his soul.
The fiddler played with a lifetime's worth of skill (perhaps more), but there was a coldness to his notes and to his eyes, buried in the shadow of his cap.
Wilfred peered out from behind the curtains, at the package on his doorstep. So innocuous. So innocent.
It's not the height you have to worry about when you pass through the gate, it's the angles. They aren't quite right (not euclidian enough, they say, though we have tried our best) and people have been known to go mad at the sight of them and at the glimpses of what lies beyond, outside... Continue Reading →
In the center of the plaza, Cara watched the glass flower flutter.It was the last of its kind. The last living thing from that world, gleaming and beautiful. Everything else had burned.
The old fridge lies on its side in the primordial jungle. It stinks of rotting meat and spoiled milk. Sauropods pass by, calls echoing shrill amongst endless trees. The doors open. Slowly. Hesitantly. A head pops out: battered, bruised, with wild hair. He laughs at the sight of trees dead eighty million years. He's done... Continue Reading →
There is a man in the mountains who wanders by the roadside, picking up the pieces of cars that have fallen. He carries them gently back to his house and hangs them upon his wall. His wife calls him foolish but one day, he says, he'll have enough to make a whole car. This if... Continue Reading →
It was midwinter and Ariella was shut in her new house by drifting snow. They should have been together, but he left her before the ink dried on the deed and she was alone amongst vast and empty rooms. At night she heard old boards creaking. In the library she would find the fire lit... Continue Reading →