Postcard perfect blue sky and the crunch, crunch, crunch of orange leaves, Whisper was convinced she has found the quintessential fall day. That was until the stench of decaying flesh assaulted her. Afraid the slip of a girl rubbed a mother tree for comfort. Whisper took a cautious step deeper into the woods.
The Veil, a mostly solitary people, collected silences. The sudden silence following a b...
Grabbing Dido by both arms, the prince pushed his bride up against the palace’s wall. Her feet dangled above the floor. She wrested in his grip.
“Unhand me!” Dido shouted.
“Make me, milady. I know you can. You could hurl me through the roof. Do it and put on a show for the guards and the guests and the press gathered for our procession to All Spirits Church,” Swenn hissed back. “The Royal Scien...
Crowley Quicke was without a feather clever. He had to be. Down by the docks, you had to be hard to the survive. The Quickes were as hard as could be. His mom ran the numbers while his dad broke arms for the union. His gaggle of siblings hauled freight up and down the shipyards. Crowley, the youngest, could be hard but he couldn’t stay amongst the gulls and fish guts.
Cold shock bit her middle finger, danced up her forearm, and fluttered her left bicep. Mallar took a sharp inhale. Clapping her right hand over her left arm to hide her affliction, the teen pretended to lose herself in an inoffensive Sterk. The Royal Gallery was breathtaking: all plaster roses and ribbons with acres of gilding. The art was lovely but safe. Mallar eased away from the crowd.
I like the nightlife, I like to boogie on the disco ‘round oh yeaaaaah,” Split sang on the grass.
Wiggling to the music in her head, Split inched along the crabgrass. Warm dandelions were the best for back scratching but crabgrass was pretty awesome. She flexed her toe beans in the dying sunlight.
Part of her wanted to sleep curled like the moon in this little patch of sun. But Split knew it w...
As berry juice ran down her chin, his fake fiancée launched into a serious discourse on the role of alien technology in archetypal folklore. Not the typical conversation for a romantic picnic on the palatial estate. Despite himself, Swenn studied her magenta stained lips. Dido paused to suck sticky juice from a fingertip.
“What? You disagree. I’ll have you know my thesis was well received. I wa...
Crisp and bright, a five dollar bill floated down and landed on my bare chest. I leapt from Rupert’s chaise. Nausea punched my guts. Queasy, I dropped back down to the lounger. Rupert, my eccentric is putting it light, perpetually broke ass artist friend, stood the old gang to a night of drinks at Artie’s last night. This afternoon I woke up in Rupert’s tub with only one sock on. Rupert was gone a...
