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Read more →The old gypsy stared into the smoke and flames of the campfire. “Every fire has its own story to tell,” Vano said. Through the smoke, Patrin squinted across at the old gypsy. “We all have our stories to tell, my friend,” Patrin said. “This is true,” Vano […]
Read more →Jimson paced inside the small line camp cabin, stopping only to peer out the window. Baker leaned back in the wooden chair, sipping his coffee. “What you hope to see out there?” Baker asked. “What about you? Ain’t you worried about the storm?” Jimson said. “It is […]
Read more →Below Mount Solitude lies a forest so dark and deep that even the animals refuse to venture inside. This is where the Little People live. The people who live in the small village built into the canyon walls above the river say the animals stay clear of […]
Read more →The railroad tracks ran close behind the small house on B Street where the old man lived with his dog, Philos. Every morning at five-thirty, the loud blasts from the diesel locomotive’s horn would wake the old man from a fitful night’s sleep. He would roll over […]
Read more →In the cold, dark October morning, Rule walked alone down the railroad tracks toward the Ross Shaft of the Homestake Gold Mine. Alone in the early morning, his breath coming out in fits of steam, he felt alive. The air above ground was different than the air […]
Read more →Under the sharp blade of moonlight, Za’darius Marquez Serenus rolled the five small stones into the circle he’d etched in the dirt. A pentagram. His fierce howl sent the ravens screaming from the gnarled and twisted branches of the trees deep in the forest. Satisfied with his […]
Read more →Fareheart was different than the others, the many men who came before him. They were nameless, never staying around long enough to be known. Pembrake had seen most of them, watched them come into town, watched as they left with their dreams stuck in their back pockets. […]
Read more →Khirijan, working through the lonely night, bagging and loading 25-pound blocks of dry ice in a plant in a remote canyon far from what anyone would call civilization, dreamed of warm sunshine. At the end of the long night, Khirijan removed her gloves, sucking on the tips […]
Read more →Obli, my spiritual grandfather, taught me how to hear, a bud opening to reveal a flower, the bear turning over in slumber, a falling leaf. And then he taught me to see, stars above the blue sky, wind parted by a formation of geese, blood pumping through […]
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