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Shorts

Pyotr

Peter the Great

Versailles, 1697

As you whirl around the room amidst glittering reflections, you whisper when he is close enough, “Do you know, Mr. Citizen Scientist…there is another room with mirrors…the King’s secret place…only his closest friends know where it is.”

His whole delegation is fascinated by the mirrors and other fruits of modern French technology, and they have been asking questions all evening. The dance brings you close together again, and you can feel him hard against you. “How do you know where it is?” he asks.

…read more on Medium.

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Shorts

Future Perfect

Settlers of Catan boardgame

Your mind is full of plans for the Dark Planet con on Saturday and you fumble the key in the lock. Finally you get the door open, tossing your Chillin’ Chikkins cap on the hook and heading to the bedroom to put the jacket away.

You haven’t tidied up yet from last night’s game session, and your wineglass is still on the floor by the bed, the dried remains of Stig’s strange concoction in the bottom. There’s a droplet on the foot of the glass, and it strikes you that it almost matches the pattern on the carpet. You turn it so it lines up.

Abruptly your bed is gone, in its place a mattress lying directly on the floor. And the room is strewn with dirty clothing, food cartons and beer cans.

…read more on Medium.

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Shorts

Ambush

Gnarled mossy trees

Ditchingham, 1646

You hear them up ahead.

They are quieter than the wind in the grass, their dark clothes and hooded faces invisible in the gathering shadows, but their hungry anticipation shouts out their presence.

You would love to stop and play with them, but you have an appointment.

…read more on Medium.

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Shorts

The Crowd

Misty river

River Styx, no date

Crowds are noisy things, but this mighty throng is silent.

Waking, you would know its size without thought, but here you cannot count the people. And for some reason, this scares you, in your dream, as little would in real life.

This uncountable crowd, on the bank of the river, is waiting for you, waiting in this place with no time.

…read more on Medium.

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Shorts

The Witchfinder

Puritan

Ditchingham, 1626

You wake early, a sharp prickling under your skin — something in the world is not right, some hazard intrudes.

You check your wards, but none are triggered. The demons you track are nowhere near, not even on this plane. Your brother and sister are puttering about, their routines unchanged from the last hundred times you checked on them. That will change, you know, but for today they are no menace.

Something else is out there, lurking, some other threat you will have to winkle out for yourself, before it can get its own hooks into you.

“Pincus!” you call, and two eyes appear, painted on the wall, blink.

“Be a sweetie,” you tell it, “Go into the village and let me know what travelers have come by.”

“Yes, Belit,” it tells you, and is gone.

…read more on Medium.

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Shorts

Lost

Lost dog

There’s a boy searching the piles of rubbish by the road dejectedly; he’s been up the road and down, without success, and is about to despair.

“What are you searching for?” you ask him, although you already know.

He turns, disconsolate, shielding his eyes from the sun as he looks up at you. “I’ve lost my dog,” he tells you, “He ran out when my sister left the door open.”

…read full story on Medium.

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Shorts

Queen of the Drowned Lands, Empress of the Burned Deserts

Pale horse

Albion, ca. 1,150 BC

You are on a wide moor, featureless apart from low vegetation. It is silvery grey in the moonlight, but there is no moon in the sky, only stars, strange stars, curious constellations that you do not recognize.

A horse is ambling towards you over the heath, old and sad and tired, his ashy coat not quite white, flecked with darker spots here and there. But his gait picks up when he spots you, and his eyes brighten.

…read full story on Medium.

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Shorts

The Place Where Lost Things Go

Macaroons

Genova, 1415

“There is a place,” you tell the little girl, “Where the world ends, not a sudden cliff or a hole, you understand, just an end, everything fading away until there is no color, no sound, nothing.

“And lost things collect there. If you have ever lost a sandal, it went there. If you have lost a favorite toy, a kitten, a thimble, that is where it has gone.

…read full story on Medium.

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Shorts

The Drowned Lands

I have several stories teed waiting up for review by various Medium publications, so here’s a quickie while I’m waiting on those:

The Drowned Lands

“Gram,” you say, as you sink into the hot water, “I had a dream.”

Gram is in bed, as usual, but you hear a sleepy response.

“I was at the beach, and I was looking out to sea. But there wasn’t any sea. It was all hills and valleys and rivers.” 

…read more on Medium.

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Shorts

Kourosh

My latest short story about Arabella the Witch—Kourosh is the Persian spelling of Cyrus, and this story is about Cyrus I, the grandfather of Cyrus the Great, founder of the Persian Empire.

Kourosh

“The villagers think I am going to kill you,” you tell him.

He looks at you again, and you can feel his disbelief. “And how will you do that?” he demands.

“Oh, I doubt they have thought that through. They probably expect me to give you a poisoned apple, or maybe call down a thunderbolt, or perhaps turn you into a beetle and stamp on you.”

…read the whole story on Medium.