Lou Morrison
Stories (4/0)
Nautilus On Land
Southeast of the calm of Capricorn rests a small archipelago of invisible significance. Sheltered from the tumult of hurricanes and lashings by the presence of a suitable islet, this respite – known to history as Staple Shallow – formed the foundation of a future empire.
By Lou Morrisonabout a year ago in Fiction
The Cataract
To reckon the bleak December fog on a heaty night is of particular curiosity. Edgar Jalyin crossed from his bed to the window, a starkly depressing sight of itself, which dragged the wall in an unsightly manner, and gazed into the dark. The outdoors was an ethereal nightscape: streetlights separated in distances of ten car-spans, where the only object of interest illuminated at all was a proper-looking bar called the Wild Love. Next to it, a row of parcel facilities, distinctly gothic in nature, stuck out in the decidedly Italian town. The street, an airless juncture, crisscrossed many swaths of trees and tangles of garbage on the corners. Edgar squinted through the rose-tinted window, hoping to catch the trees in a sway, but gave up after a few minutes. He wondered who could be out at this time.
By Lou Morrison2 years ago in Fiction
Where Are You Tonight, Sweet Marie?
Dylan's impact on popular culture is as incalculable as it is subversive. Even amongst a caste of the idiosyncratic, his unmistakable mind for musicianship, gallows-like humor, and transfiguration rendered Dylan the apotheosis for the counter-culture scene of the twentieth century.
By Lou Morrison2 years ago in Beat
The Mortimer
‘Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Despite this mathematical certainty, I have indeed reckoned the roar of a passing Vermeer missile on its course to an adjacent star system. I jest, though the sheer tumultuary presence one feels passing such a thing… it’s truly astonishing. Especially considering the speed; watching that dart race past, knowing its target is over eight years away…’
By Lou Morrison2 years ago in Fiction