Menhir – Saden’s Story

The menhir stood solitary atop the hill, bare in the harsh autumn wind. What little lichen grew on it had begun to die off months ago as autumn approached, and several web-like cracks splintered along the base where water and plants had worn away the stone. Small pots of earthenware lay empty or overturned in front of the massive rock, their contents long since dried up and blown away. A small carved rock figurine nestled against the base of the rock, a thin crimson ribbon – a wedding band – tied around the neck.

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Stormworld: Ohrain

This is the third in a series of short stories set in a shared universe: Earth has been pummeled by heavy storms for twenty years, and the governments left over have adapted by genetically manipulating (and in some cases, Inventing) creatures to help them survive the onslaught of rain and wind. After two decades, the storms have diminished, but the changes are too significant to return to the status quo so easily…


Soft summer droplets plinked off of cars and roofs as the figure stalked along the road, silent and nigh invisible in the dim twilight rain. Its tongue flitted out of its lips like a lizard’s, sniffing at the air while the large frame that bore it lumbered elegantly through the brush on the side of the road. IT had been tracking something, or someone, but it had forgotten who or what. It had been tracking them for a long time, was all it knew. Read more

Stormworld: Loft

This is the second in a series of short stories set in a shared universe: Earth has been pummeled by heavy storms for twenty years, and the governments left over have adapted by genetically manipulating (and in some cases, Inventing) creatures to help them survive the onslaught of rain and wind. After two decades, the storms have diminished, but the changes are too significant to return to the status quo so easily…


The driving rain had let up for barely an hour, and all haste was made laying tarps over gaps and pushing furniture against shuttered windows. When the lightning flashed once more, and the thunder bellowed behind it, it was dimmer, more distant for the covers. As the rain once more poured forth, there came many a plinking sound from inside. Pots and bowls, pails of this and bins of that were upset and placed to gather what fell through the makeshift barriers. Read more

Pilot-Ship

Normally silenced by so much noise and fury of roaring fusion engines and myriad humming system, the hull was beginning to groan loudly, as though it were unhappy with current circumstances. The asteroid it gripped onto was one of millions in this belt, and though its rotation was slower than its neighbours, the force still put considerable strain on the Ship’s claws which clung to it.

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Stormworld: Hardtop

This is the first in a series of short stories set in a shared universe: Earth has been pummeled by heavy storms for twenty years, and the governments left over have adapted by genetically manipulating (and in some cases, Inventing) creatures to help them survive the onslaught of rain and wind. After two decades, the storms have diminished, but the changes are too significant to return to the status quo so easily…

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Archway Books

It all started one quiet evening after a busy day. Roy, a man in his mid-thirties, bid farewell to the last customer and fumbled at the lock, weary after so much work. As he casually flicked the sign around, displaying to all the world his shop was closed, there came a resounding knock that nearly skinned him on the spot.

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The Light at Dawn

The Captain’s death had been a quiet footnote to an otherwise languorous, violent journey, and the Ship logged it as such. The crew, having finished their unsavory work on the hastily docked merchant frigate, were enjoying a mid-day siesta amid the hired hands and “unlisted service personnel” when the aforementioned death had occurred. A piece of interior hull, secreted away many lightyears ago during a previous raid, found itself embedded in the neck of Captain Amos, showering the sleeping marauders with a thin spray of blood.

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Crater Bay

Slow, silent rocking woke the pair gently, as it had these last seven months, like the soft shake of a partner’s hands. Felice was first to rise, opening the curtains of the small sailboat to reveal a bright sky, full of promise. The warm sun soaked into her skin, and she drank greedily until she had her fill, gazing across the lethargic waters at the painted canvas the horizon wore. Her companion, slow to wake but surprisingly animated once so, began the task of making the morning meal, and Felice enjoyed her solace with the water a moment more before pitching in.

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A Study of Contrasts

I figured i’d start this post at the middle, and spare the future reader my history. Suffice it to say, I write to get ideas out, and this is my tool to facilitate it further. I’ll be posting short stories, typically one-and-a-half to three pages long, and essentially self-contained. I may post some of my longer form works-in-progress from time to time, and even some non-writing content once this is stable.

Most of this is talking to an empty room, except the dialogue will be forever after available to be played back at any time, by any one who enters it. I’ll keep most posts strictly to stories and other projects i’m working on, with occasional sharing of other people’s blogs I find motivating and interesting.

So, in effect, the same as any other blog. Enjoy!

As it is currently just past midnight, I will be uploading one story tonight, then one at least once a week (I reserve the right to post more).