Randall Windle
Bio
UK Based Author, Bristol 🌉
Stories (26/0)
Chariot
Hollow walked past the graves every morning. Every morning there was dust and decay in the air. In Eden’s ground. Killing ground. Hollow woke up happy on his last day. The kind of happy that skirts on lunacy. Pessimists would call it delusion. Oh well.
By Randall Windle16 days ago in Fiction
Night Of Nine Killers
“Who would you propose to trust? All you’ve given me is silence.” Pan spoke softly, though not without purpose, or emphasis. When all the members were together, each one would leave their annual meetings with the same shared, unspoken thought.
By Randall Windle8 months ago in Fiction
The Warrior & The Demon
Hazel was always awake before him. Maybe she did sleep after all. Braddius’ sixth sense grew around that routine. Bleary eyes that’d become comfortable at being closed with the absolute awareness that if opened there would only ever be a lush night sky to see them, opened to disappointment at grey clouds and stubborn rain. But that sensation went down the shitter to a warm pleasant sensation as he drew clean breath into scarred lungs. He lifted up. Shrunken muscles squirmed as he extended arms in a backward V shape. Hands grated and squirmed against fragments of chipped volcanic rock.
By Randall Windle2 years ago in Fiction
