Joshua R. Leuthold
Bio
Joshua enjoys the finer things in life: well-written books, homemade meals, a good cup of tea, great films, television, tabletop rpgs, & video games, it's amazing he gets any writing done at all.
Stories (10/0)
Read-Only Memory
This was the memory he liked best. It dropped into his mind with pixelated edges, blocks of opalescence gradually sharpening into the clarity of approximated reality. A wave of queasiness always accompanied the shift and gave him something to focus on until the visual acuity stabilized. It didn’t help that the memory started with movement, with his final step down the stairs from the second floor.
By Joshua R. Leuthold3 years ago in Fiction
Friendly Sir Samuel and the Frozen Pond Princess
Snow crunched beneath Sir Samuel’s winter boots as he neared the northeastern edge of the village. So far, the cobblestone road had been fairly free of the fallen flakes. Here, however, the townsfolk had left the drifts alone. He gazed back at his good friend Akira-kun to check on his progress.
By Joshua R. Leuthold3 years ago in Fiction
Selfless Sir Samuel and the Spirit's Secret
Multicolored leaves crunched beneath Sir Samuel’s shoes as he walked along the edge of the southern forest. He held his brand new sword in his hand (it was merely a stick he’d picked up from the ground) and gave it a few playful swings as he strolled. The sun dipped low on the horizon behind him, casting his shadow a good distance ahead.
By Joshua R. Leuthold3 years ago in Fiction
Bold Sir Samuel and the Bull's Bowl
Bold Sir Samuel launched himself through the air, soaring over the fence as he narrowly avoided the roaring minotaur’s charge. It rammed the fence beneath him. The flat part of its head between the sharp horns brushed the bottom of Sir Samuel’s pants. For one weightless moment, Sir Samuel knew what it was to be a bird, and then he crashed to the grassy ground outside the minotaur’s territory.
By Joshua R. Leuthold3 years ago in Fiction
Serious Sir Samuel and the Friendly Floral Faerie
Serious Sir Samuel stepped into the pleasantly warm night air. The luminous full moon cast a cerulean aura over the nearby homes. He breathed deep and smiled wide at his fortunes. His mom worked this evening as the dinner cook at The Happy Hideaway inn. That meant Miss Mindy watched his sister at her place, and he stayed home alone.
By Joshua R. Leuthold3 years ago in Fiction
Curious Sir Samuel and the Suspicious Stranger
The lunchtime sun beat down on Sir Samuel as he sat and ate a meat pie. Old Lady Elsie had given it to him as he passed by on his way to report his lack of spider-slaying to Farmer Gerald. Sir Samuel drooled when the cinnamon-tinged smoky-sweet scent hit his nose before he even saw the stall where Elsie sold them. Lifting his arm to take another bite, his stewpot shield shifted to tap his elbow, and he gazed across the busy village square at Farmer Gerald’s stall. Waves of color filled the stands the farmer had placed on the counter, a veritable rainbow of fruits and veggies.
By Joshua R. Leuthold3 years ago in Fiction
Sly Sir Samuel Steals Sweets!?
Sly Sir Samuel stood poised to enter the steep, sloping tunnel into the dark dungeon. His enchanted cloak (well, really a woolen blanket his mother knitted) hung low over his head and draped over his shoulders. Footwear had proved troublesome for his sneaking, what with all the squeaking the leather made with each step, so he’d left his shoes behind. His leather armor (truly, a roughspun shirt that fit far too tight) would protect him should he come to blows with the great guardian creature below, but he preferred not to get in a tussle this day. Sir Samuel wielded no weapons. They were at the blacksmith for improvements (actually, they were taken when his mother caught him practicing flourishes on her flowers). Ready as he would ever be, he took his first tentative step into the descending corridor.
By Joshua R. Leuthold3 years ago in Fiction
Brave Sir Samuel and Samantha the Spider
Brave Sir Samuel stood before the ruin of a barn ready to enter, bravely. He thought of his mother, who told him repeatedly that his foolish adventuring would get him hurt. He shrugged off the thought and checked his arms and armor: a shining blade (actually, a blunted and chipped dagger), his magical tunic (actually, just his regular farm work clothes, roughspun and slightly ill fitting, for room to grow), and his glorious buckler (well, more the lid of a stewpot his mother would surely scold him for taking).
By Joshua R. Leuthold3 years ago in Fiction
Chroma Eyes
The setting sun scorched the sky into a beam-blade wound, cauterized clouds over raw vermilion. N8’s Vendetta idled like a resting demon with him in it. He knew el-towns dotting Noman’s Land were criminal havens, but he had to eat something real instead of more K-unit rations.
By Joshua R. Leuthold3 years ago in Fiction