The third (and most likely last) of three sprints telling the same story. – The one thing aside from her that was still changing with time. Her body woke up the same, to the same broadcast, every day, but her… Continue reading

The second of (at least) three sprints telling the same story. – A cat, skinny black stray all bones and hackles, standing at the mouth of an alley. Staring into it, arched into a perfect question mark, and hissing, yowling,… Continue reading

The first of (at least) three sprints telling the same story. – It had been May 28th ever since she had knocked that damn glass off the counter. She’d thought that was why, for a while. Wake up to the… Continue reading

Wearing a chain of dandelions into battle, strewn careless and delicate about the neck. A boast, or a mockery? You won’t dent their armour. You won’t so much as cut a stem. Red blood swinging about garishly on yellow blossoms.… Continue reading

I had never really believed there was such a thing as diving too deep. There was equipment, and there were people, not suited to do it, but the former was a challenge to overcome, and I wasn’t one of the… Continue reading

“I don’t believe you,” she laughed, in a way that sang from the rim of her wine glass. “What, you don’t think I would?” They had long since emptied theirs, and stretched across the couch to the bottle standing on… Continue reading

Being courted by a god of frost was mostly downsides. The first time she found a surprise blizzard on her doorstep, late in May, she assumed it was just the weather stumbling on its wobbling way to summer. It did… Continue reading

She stopped at the forty-eighth kingdom, above the clouds but still below the stars, when she realized that the forty-seventh was the last place she had felt human. There had been a festival of some sort happening when she’d passed… Continue reading