I do believe the time has come to hope

I'd love it if my friend came back at last.

If I am wrong I'll wash my mouth with soap,

And banish expectation to the past,

But still, if I could nourish once again

The happiness that once was his and mine,

Wi…

Judgement shifted in his slackening grip, causing Orthael to clench his fist with a hundred battles' worth of instinct and experience. The point dipped, causing golden droplets of fire to drip down to briefly illuminate the forest floor before disappearin…

The cube was less than two inches square, yet somehow heavy enough to thwart Rachael's best efforts at forcing the door. Persistence unrewarded, she knelt and reached her hand through the gap, the appendage instantly transformed by her damaged synapses in…

I reach. I fumble. My fingers renew their acquaintance with that smooth black stone of yesteryear. I remember the knit cap, with Donald Duck on it, and gasp in wonder. How have you been, old friend, old chronicle, old heart? The rhetorical echoes send…

My heart's been touched by many a gentle word

Of kindness and acceptance. Gentle folks

Have hastened to my aid, all undeterred

When I've had trouble; they've been strong as oaks

When I've been both exhausted, frail, and grieving.

To all my patient pals…

I sit in the kitchen, lips still feeling the buzz as I rest my trumpet on my knee. I feel quiet, but not quite calm. My eyes find the glass of cold milk on the table beside me. As I drink it down, I can see the old clock on the wall through the bottom…

As I tromp through the woods in Lincoln, I can smell the deep green and hear the crackle of burnt red pine needles. I can barely make out the path anymore. It's been decades since my last visit. I remember the taste of the frigid bottle of grape soda I al…

In furious glee, the madman bursts into the room

His beard is dripping ice; his breaths form tiny clouds

His staring eyes dart round the room and soon he'll see

My huddled form, my empty hands; he'll hear the sounds

Of moaning dread that steal from my …

There's something high up in the sky

I saw it flashing by my eye

And then it soared into the clouds

Its shouted hums, its muffled louds.

I'm frightened, dear; what can it be

That's sneaking there on top of me?

Is it a drone? A bird? A bomb?

Will I be …

I'll never know how you could build this gate:

This time and place and structure to explore

A valley that exists behind my pate

Uncanny in new ways I can't ignore.

.

I gaze at the horizon--distant, pale

I wonder at the 'hemoths on the coast

I tread wi…

I don't know science, but I've heard some stories

Of physics, chemistry, and bio-glories

If I could be as steady as the nat'ral laws,

I'm sure I'd find self-confidence, because

It seems that all the world will just obey

Their mandates strict, no matter …

Malika was silent for a time, regathering her composure. She was embarrassed by her reaction, especially in front of this man. Finally, she nodded solemnly.

"The Archbishop is gone, as you presume, holy man," she said, "as is everyone else I ever knew. T…

The thing that spoke to me had the face of a dead god but used the voice of my father. I had known to expect this. It was a by-product of the bonding ritual that gave a semblance of life back to this former deity. Not that any of the gods ever truly died,…

"which flavor cheese?"

"the yellow one."

.................................

Story is marked as mature

So by now we all know that there’s no logical explanation why honeybees can fly, weight and wings and stuff, it shouldn’t be possible, but bees fly anyway. Perhaps bees are magical creatures, then. And the drop in bees’ quantity is alarming to the wizardi…

Well, I know the site has been having some issues. I may be able to try poking the person who manages it directly (Ethel, to the best of my knowledge), and see if they know what's going on. People have been having all sorts of issues. Namely, with sequels…

Prunella turned from her novel and rolled her eyes in copious disgust.

The Archangel of Sparks.

Malika had heard of this, but she had never actually witnessed it. She had never been a devout follower of the Church, and her local vicar had never, to her knowledge, before summoned an aspect of any of the three Archangels. He …

Malika did not bow her head. So far as she was concerned, faith had failed her. Her eyes had been on the holy man, his vestments - tattered as they were - and on the implements of his office. And so she saw the candle of Varenniel puff out of its own ac…

I don't know how I made it through what came next. The next days were a blur of pain, both physical and emotional, and fever dreams, in the rare moments when I slept.

My first task was to split the figure of my father in half, carefully using the tools o…

Malika shivered. The events of the night still weighed heavily upon her, and it was difficult to wrap her mind around the loss of her village, the fight with the Lycanders, the destruction of the lesser deathless, and the conflict with the greater deathle…

A bell rang in the distance, and Malika rose from her cot, plucking Morduth up from where it lay beside her. She knew the sound of that bell because she had heard it regularly most of her life. This was not quite like the bell in her village, though. The …

Malika slept restlessly that night. Her sleep was plagued by dreams of shadows and flames, the yellow infernos of building burning. Creatures moved among those flames, casting long silhouettes across the carcasses of homes that had fallen into embers. Of …

Anger flared inside Malika, and she failed to noticed the light aura of flame that momentarily erupted around her hand, even as Morduth lay by her side, untouched.

He is right, Mistress, the sword declared. There is much about my own history that even…