Joseph Gibb
Stories (2/0)
The Tamworth Incident
"There weren't always dragons in the valley," said Sir Telgard. "At least, until now." His brother, Sir Mareward, shook his wild mane of jet-black hair and spat. "Now there's a big dead one, and more will come. They'll come like carrion-eaters, to feast on their dead, and pillage the dead dragon's hoard. The dragons will fight, squabbling like children over wooden blocks, and they will feast, and the valley will blaze with dragon fire. But dragons are an ancient and cunning race, and they will realize that there is no hoard to plunder here, and they will take to the villages and farms and loot what they can, leaving nothing but blackened husks and ash in their wake."
By Joseph Gibb2 years ago in Fiction
The Breaking Point
The handle was a golden rectangle in the center of a chocolate block of a door, which creaked open before I could even reach for it. A pale, wizened face beneath a swath of woolen white wisps and tucked into a strangling navy blue turtle-neck appeared from the gloom beyond. The denture-filled mouth cracked.
By Joseph Gibb3 years ago in Criminal