by David W. Stoner | Nov 20, 2019 | Short Stories
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...
by David W. Stoner | Nov 28, 2018 | Short Stories
Cross-legged on the dirt floor, the conjurer, Juan Carlos, begins the death song, the death rattle painted the colors of the desert in his left hand, the owl’s claw in his right. The dance of flames throws shadows on the walls of the adobe hut, the smoke rising to...
