Madoka Mori
Bio
Stories (20/0)
- Top Story - August 2023
Top Five Books of '22Top Story - August 2023
In 2021 I noticed that my reading was slipping. I’ve always been a big reader, but when talking about my favourite books of the year so far I realised that I couldn’t bring very many to mind. It was about halfway through the year and I’d only read around four or five.
By Madoka Mori10 months ago in BookClub
- Top Story - June 2023
- Top Story - January 2023
The Thief of ReasonTop Story - January 2023
There were not always dragons in the Valley. I will see them gone from that place once more. My father wept when I made my pledge, a rare thing. The tears fell from behind his mask like warm, summer rain. His attachment to me was a failing on his part, a stumble upon the Path. Yet I was gladdened to see him weep for me; a failing on mine. Later, upon my journey, I kept the memory of my father’s tears close, and felt a little less alone.
By Madoka Moriabout a year ago in Fiction
The Liminal Man
The box contained a burner cell phone and a sheet of paper that said: JOSEPH ELLIS DO NOT RUN I went to the railing of the terrace and checked the street. Two boys straddling their bicycles in the road were gazing up at the diminishing dot of the drone that had deposited the box on the hotel veranda. They turned and looked at me.
By Madoka Moriabout a year ago in Fiction
High-Pressure Deep Sea Environment Tank
They installed the exhibit with much fanfare but that was years ago now. No more write-ups in international news, no more lines of visitors queueing to descend the stair. These days the contents of the High-Pressure Deep Sea Environment Tank warranted but a few items in the gift shop, and those outsold the tank's actual visitors by a large margin. People preferred the cartoon version to the real thing, it seemed.
By Madoka Mori2 years ago in Fiction
- Runner-Up in Christopher Paolini's Fantasy Fiction Challenge
In the Shadow of His WingsRunner-Up in Christopher Paolini's Fantasy Fiction Challenge
You were four years old the first time you ran away. Your mother would joke about it in the years that followed. So willful from such an early age, she would say, with a forced bonhomie. We could never control him, not really.
By Madoka Mori2 years ago in Fiction