The Right Gift (119 Words)
No, not flowers. He liked flowers, but it didn’t seem right.
She sat, looking down at the quiet ground that was so unlike him. Davy had never been quiet. He had never stood still. Even in sleep, he was always tossing and stealing the blankets for himself. Peg’s mouth crooked in a smile. Darn it, she missed him.
But he wasn’t here.
Wallie and are excited to announce the publication of one of our favorite stories by one of our favorite authors! Wheeeeee!
Somehow, the title of this post sounds contradictory.
The short fantasy adventure “There Will Never Be Any More Solken Wine” has just been published in the October 2018 edition of Alban Lake Publishing’s Outposts of Beyond. A warm drink to stave off the coming autumn chill. Liquid music for readers who are prepared to go down fighting.
In case you missed them when they first were published, “Job: A Fairy Tale of God, Satan, and Us” is available at Mysterion. You can read the whole thing right here, right now. Oh, it’s a fairy tale, all right.
And don’t forget, the dark fairy tale “The Three Sisters” is up at Metaphorosis. Be sure your hammer and tongs are close at hand when you go. You’re likely to need them. It’s available both in print and online. But the print edition is definitely…
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Savannah (89 Words)
Intro by thunder: golden eve
To case live boughs made émeraude
In molten, sparkling filigree—
Above the rain swept roads of old.
Reflection (74 Words)
O looking back the way I came,
I found my future much the same;
The dreams short-lived, the shadows tall,
Still one true Light above it all.
The Waking (1019 Words)
He woke through stillness and cold. That waking was precarious, and came and went, like a lazy tide. But at last, consciousness impressed itself on him. He opened his eyes to the world again.
Eddie breathed deep. The heavy motion almost made him cry out. His hand went instinctively to the bandage around his middle.
“I wouldn’t.” Wurther’s voice was low but firm. “You are still healing.”
Little Girl (56 Words)
The aliens were sensitive to life forms, but Ji11 wasn’t a life form.
She was the last thing the humans in their containment cell expected to see, carrying the codes for their release.
Ji11 would never understand the relief on the captives’ faces, but she understood the pride in Mary’s quiet whisper: “That’s my little girl!”
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Written in response to Three Line Tales’ challenge. Check it out! Image (c) Alex Knight.
Amorphous
Summer’s lease is short
But if he had compared her
To a cloud we’d know
It was true for clouds
Somehow are never
The same but always
Changing under
Under the eye
And yet
They are always
Just the same
As a
Song.
