figments
I don’t sleep anymore. I think I did once. I don’t remember, really. If I slept at all. I don’t know. I know the Hissing Voice tries not…
“Do you ever get sad sometimes? But you don’t know why?” He could picture the child, standing in the doorway, dragging a blanket in one hand, the…
The snow blankets the entire mountain, but the pulse of magic from the sacred cavern is unmistakable. Élivágar glows a bright blue, calling to the gatekeeper with his…
As super-thin electric doors moved apart, a wave of homogenous mass flooded a huge auditorium, which was filled up with stained sunlight coming through translucent walls of the…
Figments (F): Most of your stories are neither dystopian or utopian, but more like something in the middle. Is there a reason you refrain from settling on one…
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