A Strange Dish

He couldn't remember how he arrived. All he knew was the flicker of tallow candles, the bone-white plates, and something fried, turned over and over in batter and fat. ┬áHe prodded it with a fork, but it remained a mystery. Two great wooden heaved open and his hosts entered. There were seven of them, some... Continue Reading →

Mountaintop Experience

The mountain jutted like a dagger from the earth, a pinnacle of grey in a world of brown. It was all sharp angles and vertical drops, the deadliest of climbs. But still they attempted it. To even try to climb the mountain was worthy of honour. If anyone ever reached the top, they would praised... Continue Reading →

Shadow of the Enemy

The War is coming. They feel it in their bones. The shops are shut. Windows are barred. Mothers hold their children close. The streets are empty. A lone newspaper flutters on the breeze, drifting between abandoned cars. The War is coming. There has been no announcement on the radio. There has been nothing on the... Continue Reading →

The Last Knight

Each night, as the red sun dipped over the horizon, Lorena stood by the castle gates, looking out upon the moonlit moorland. Her sword was in her hand, the rings of her mail shone gold-bright, and her dark eyes glinted beneath her polished helm. The wind blew cold against her cheek and carried the whispers... Continue Reading →


In days before the rise of the sun, they danced in the endless shadows. Her laugh rang out and became the eldest star, burning brighter than any other. And when the world was forged, they raced along the burning fragments, singing as the magma cooled and the mountains rose. Then they were split asunder as... Continue Reading →

Know Your Place

"Just sing," they tell him. "You're only an entertainer and it's not your job to talk about these things." But he has seen what comes of silence. This is for Three Line Tales. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Paulette Wooten for providing the prompt photo!

All Part of the Job

Screeching horns. Crashing metal on metal. Squealing tires. Glass splintering in spider-webs of shards. And over it all, the thunder of gunfire and the smell of gunpowder. After, they sit on the curb, staring at the wreck of the car: windows blown out, tires flat, mirrors snapped off like old branches. "Could have been worse,"... Continue Reading →

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