Ink-slinger. Photo-grapher. Earth-ling. These are Stories of the Fantastic and the Mundane. Space, time, superheroes and shapeshifters. 'Wolf' thumbnail: https://unsplash.com/@marcojodoin.
The girl had to run at a full pelt, just to keep up with the grasses. “I’m going to beat you,” she teased the scrambling plants, which took no notice of her taunts, only of her motions. They flowed over the irregular terrain, almost as though they were a single, vast organism, instead of the thousands of individual blades and stalks uprooting themselves from the soil, with each running step she planted in their midst.
Ella Camina (She Walks)
His grandmother was in no mood to be respected, despite her children and friends gathering at her bedside to do just that: pay their respects to her. In the main, she preferred to be left to herself, to lie in her bed, suffering from the effects of age, in decline, but this wish, her familia could not grant her.
Hang Those Who Talk
We’re doomed, her gaze said — even before she could give a literal voice to the bleak assessment of their prospects to her coworkers. When she could speak, she said: “They’re saying that it’s inevitable. That if we defend our allies in the region, it will escalate, we will get pulled in, Brice, and they…”
It was maybe a week after my father died that I brought the weapon home — for him. And never, even while I piloted the car to a hunting area, did it cease talking. “Drive better, son,” it barked, as I launched the car into motion. “Are you trying to get us killed, before we’ve even made it out of Ann Arbor?”
The Destroyer Moth
Gerry McNab always maintained to his fellow criminals that no prison could ever hold him, no matter how thick its walls were, or how trigger-happy its guards might be. He seemed genuinely convinced by his own malarkey, amusing to his fellow inmates, first in New Jersey, and then, Louisiana. Even though he mostly, by the age of twenty-four, answered to the name Giraldo Moschella, he had a rare quality, a kind of plausibility about his phoniness.
Jewel-Encrusted Sky - Chapter 1
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Thus... it made no sense, at first, that she was jolted in her pilot's webbing by just such a frightening report, issuing from her own captain, a man who had never even shown more than mild trepidation in many previous voyages they had made, through the endless void. Having cut out the continuum-distortion drive, they returned to sublight, on approach to their target, a lifeless hunk of cosmic flotsam.
Become Your Time of Day
THE END OF DAYS — proclaimed the hand-drawn sign, in garish, reddish-outlined lettering — IS DRAWING NIGH. “Brother, you don’t know how right you are with that one,” a dapper man in his late twenties asserted to the hobo wielding the sign. He was the first person in several minutes to have engaged the unshaven man in direct conversation, for many of the other pedestrians either ignored him or smiled at the bold claim.