Fiction

  • Stealthstar's Origin

    Story style from Erin Hunter's 'Warriors'

    Creekkit bounded into the Elder’s Den, a mouse in her mouth, “Cloudclaw, can you tell me a story that no one has ever heard before? Pleeeeez?” 
  • Song of the Nomad

       A cold chill hangs over the night.  Dawn is approaching, but for the moment the mountain is still, the few forms of life able to withstand its elevated climate still hiding in their dwellings for a final few minutes.  One
  • The Plane Crash


    He looked around the plane and wept big crystal tears,
    his sisters pink bow lay beneath his foot and his memories of her under his greif.
    So many people looked back at him, or didn't. 
    They were all screaming in a different way.
  • Little Cat

    Open your eyes,
    Little cat,
    And investigate.
    Paw through the dusty treasures of a long forgotten basement.
    Knock over an old vase,
    Pretending at being a ghost,
    Much to the annoyance of your people.
  • Mea Culpas

     The man gazes out and past the extensive glass window that shows off to him an endless sliver of outer space, daydreaming about Earth while fermenting away in the multi-trillion dollar New Old-World resort -no, priso
  • The ocean highway

    There was a boy who lived in the little house just off the highway.
    The house with the chipped red paint and the overgrown backyard that ran wild and reckless like a jungle.
    It was what the boy liked to pretend it was, anyway.
  • Ciorba cu Perișoare

    Son. Son! Take off your headphones! You must learn! You must... understand that there is art in the making of ciorba cu perisoare. Ciorba cu perisoare! Soup! Baiat prost! The way you cut the potatoes, the kind of stock you use.