A giant of a man stood in the doorway, hair white as snow, loosed from a leather band.
This Textured Darkness, #32
He’d felt well enough to plough his wife’s belly with a son.
This Textured Darkness, #31
The fever passed, only to leave him chilled and dreaming he was fighting on bloody snow.
This Textured Darkness, #30
Until three days ago,” Milo pointed to the skull, “This was a man we called the Poet.”
This Textured Darkness, #29
Milo Janket, or Milo the Lantern as he was called in Marsh Wool, stood before the throne, trying not to soil his breeches.
This Textured Darkness, #28
He’d reconnoitered Casoria during the war and remembered the layout well enough to take him to a corner tavern called The Fish Belly. He’d been disguised that night, his… Read more “This Textured Darkness, #28”
This Textured Darkness, #29
Milo Janken, or Milo the Lantern as he was called in Marsh Wool, stood before the throne, trying not to soil his breeches.
This Textured Darkness, #28
He’d caught the eye of a buxom barmaid who asked for coin.
This Textured Darkness, #27
Below him sprawled Casoria, the stuff of which legends were made.
Char Glimmer, part 2 (a Harshbarger Mills Story)
Did the nurse know who she was talking to? She’s not some floozy who fetches the morning paper in her nightgown!
