writing can be a bitch sometimes
I need to take Charlie for a walk. He’s getting restless – I can sense it. Of course, he’s too well-trained to scratch at the door or, heaven forbid, do his business on the carpet, as many other dogs might. But he’s getting fidgety and I know from experience what that means. He lets out …
I got them to show me where Jack had gone. They pointed to the long grasses that bordered the river, as tall in some places as I was. I ducked into the shuttle and took the machete from the locker. Outside, the grays milled about, talking amongst themselves in that strange low way that they …
‘I am ready.’ He takes the quill and parchment from the hooded figure before him. Both are still damp with the unguents and give off a rich perfume. It is the smell that permeates these halls and lofty chambers every day, a smell to which he has become wholly accustomed, but today it is overwhelmingly …
The darkness outside the small round window was complete. It gave her a funny feeling when she looked at it, like the feeling you might get putting your hand inside a dark crack in a rock. It was just over eight hours since the incident, and she had exhausted every option she could think of. …
BLOOD / STONE 