The king sits on a throne of broken bones and watches the girl cross the desert, carrying his death with her.
The air burns Jana’s throat when she inhales, heat wicking the moisture from her mouth. She has walked for an hour, two hours—impossible to tell exactly—with the sun a white, unmoving eye in the bleached sky. The mountain looms over her now, a black mass blotting out the horizon.
Read it now
Roy pulled the cover back and took a long look at Charlene. His heart pounded as he slid his hand along her backside. He figured she had rested long enough. “Wanna go for a spin, baby?”
Charlene was in pristine condition, with all original parts, right down to her factory color—hugger orange with twin white rally stripes. She was his dream car—a 1969 Camaro Z/28.
The Queen lay awake long past midnight, tracing the lines on her face with her fingers. They were deeper than they had been yesterday. They turned to wrinkles and then to crevasses, stealing her youth and beauty.
The man sleeping beside her would say she was even more beautiful than the day he’d first seen her
Vera’s air lasted just long enough to finish the song, and then her throat closed. Wheezing, she dipped a curtsy to sparse applause. Before she could faint onstage, she pushed through the hazy gambling hall and escaped outside.
A gaslight supported her as she fought to catch her breath. At least she’d finished her set, unlike last night.
Lucy landed on the cottage roof and folded her gossamer wings. She clasped her hands together and gazed at the sliver of moon shining like a scimitar above the quiet village. Tonight was her first solo mission. After months of training, she would fight the darkness and earn her Weaver name.
Read it now
If Brandy heard one more person tell her what a good wife she would be, she was going to drown a sailor.
She heaved a deep breath as she twisted her silver locket around her fingers and walked down the dark cobblestone streets. It was a paltry trinket, certainly not a token of love, though it had been given to her by the man she loved.
I swallowed past the pain burning like a boulder in my throat. It resisted. I swallowed again, the lump searing into my soul as I trembled.
Again… I was back in the game again. Trapped in this place of darkness.
My car stood as I’d left it—a broken-down heap of trash
Thoughts flooded Adalai’s roving mind, most of which were not her own.
He said he’d be here…
…not a telepath. At least the one in the forest stays away…
No one will hear…
Adalai, sitting cross-legged on the forest floor, focused on the last voice
“I can’t find anything wrong with you, Frank.” The doctor leaned back in his chair to look at his clipboard over his wire-frames.
“Come on, Doc. There’s got to be something. This ain’t normal.” Frank put his head in his hands. “I’m tellin’ you, I’ve been hearing music for three days straight.”
The warlock Jasper Throe first met Caroline Donadeiu when she had only two tattoos.
Tonight, she showed up on his doorstep shabby, with more tattoos than he could count, hands in fists by her sides. Jasper hardly recognized her.
Caroline bit the inside of her cheek. Instead of “hello,” she said, “I’m sorry. May I come in?”
It’s too late to say I’m sorry, Jasper thought, but not without kindness.
“Is she an angel?” the little boy asked his mother. They sat on the shore playing in the sand. “She looks so… sad.”
High above them, a cliff jutted out over the water like the prow of a ship. At its edge stood a woman, her white dress and dark hair billowing in the wind.
“All first-class tickets are sold out.”
You blink.
The grey-haired cashier shakes her head and purses her lips. “All first-class tickets in that direction are sold out, ma’am.”
“But I wanted to…” You step closer. “I need to…”
The cashier lowers the shutters in your face. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but all tickets are sold out.” She retreats deeper into her booth.
Recent Comments