Series
Doose's Last Performance, Part 3
This is the next installment in The ShambElla Saga, and the final installment of three about Doose's Last Performance. For my part, given an opportunity to comment on these events irrespective of the Narrator's snark, I'd like to point out that I understand the need for gentility and compassion, but I am often left to wonder: where's the compassion for those who must step in and do the right thing when everything goes wrong? Again, I ask: Who saves the sacrifice?
By C. Rommial Butlerabout a year ago in Fiction
The Arctic Vault
The wind screamed across the barren wasteland of ice and rock as Ethan Kade stepped off the transport plane, boots sinking into permafrost. The pilot gave him a tight nod, then took off again without a word. No one wanted to linger near the Arctic Vault—not anymore.
By Esther Sunabout a year ago in Fiction
"Weirdos" . Top Story - May 2025.
My heart pounded against my rib cage as my mind went completely blank. But then Pallas caught my eye from the other side of the hallway. One hand hovered over her chest and rose and fell slightly with the rhythm of her breathing. Her deep green gaze seemed to glow in the distance, allowing a better understanding of her message:
By Taylor Rigsbyabout a year ago in Fiction
Dodge Tanner’s Highly Unrecommended Travelogue - #116: Mushrooms, Mistakes, and Mad dashes
Dodge had made this trip enough times to consider himself an expert at gathering Stonecap Fungus. Always with a single firm twist, no pulling, tearing, or cutting. Respectful pace. Easy enough.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)about a year ago in Fiction
Dodge and the Tragedy of Tailoring: Measure twice, Cut Once. Replace weekly!
The bell above the door of Nimbleman’s Fine Clothiers jingled with practiced exasperation, more of a weary sigh than a welcoming chime, signaling the latest return of Dodge, serial destroyer of fine tailoring & a familiar figure of destruction and poor textile preservation.. He strode in, his satchel brimming with the unmistakable scent of charred leather and singed fabric. Wisps of smoke still curled lazily from his coat. His hat—poor, tragic thing—had several large, jagged holes burned straight through it, as though it had tried and failed to reason with a particularly aggressive bonfire and bore the unmistakable marks of a blade’s enthusiastic attempt to perforate it beyond recognition.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)about a year ago in Fiction
Dodge Tanner vs Hostile Workplace Discrimination. (The Art of Dodge-ing Responsibility)
Dodge Tanner lounged in his favorite spot at the Barrow and Barrel tavern, a half-empty goblet of the local vintage swirling lazily in his hand. The dim tavern light cast lazy shadows over the parchment map, a document so thoroughly ignored it might as well have been a coaster sat beneath his elbow, forgotten in favor of the pressing matter of deciding whether the blackberry merlot or the apricot chardonnay deserved the title of the coveted Tanner Title 'Finest Wine of the Valley.' (Coveted by Dodge Tanner, at least, as his attempts to get the competition officialized has thus far gone unappreciated.)
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)about a year ago in Fiction
