Death Valley: An Allegory_Dalliance of Nin-khursag_Bloodlust_A Stranger in These Lands
Catalog Guide:
Death Valley: An Allegory
It’s no telling how long Benjamin and Jamie DeVere have been lost in the desert of Death Valley, California, as they theorize differently with memory. The couple slumps through the same footprints walked for hours, days, weeks, each footstep digging deeper with recollection. The sandy circle is the master of their minds as they muddle through another day in the valley of death. Arguments become conversation as they gripe on about where their destination started and how it will end, each voice raising a beckoning call to end the trip. The deep, lowly valley is soft and confined, but their tempe...
Dalliance of Nin-khursag
Content warning - mature like a dirty jokeEnki is an Anunnakis, an alien who emigrated from Nibiru 'The Destroyer' planet during the last pass near Earth almost 3600 years ago. He is royal, son of Antu, mated to Anu the king. His half-sister Nin-khursag is on the planet www.onedoor.ccwith him as is his half-brother Enlil. He is a hunk of a man, eight feet of muscle with long brown hair and combed beard under the traditional silver crown anchoring the chain mail dropping across the back of the neck and to the shoulders. He has leather sandals and is naked except for cotton pin pants while relaxing on an orga...
Bloodlust
I was going to kill a man tonight. That’s why I went to the party. It was an extravagant, black-tie affair thrown on a warm late summer evening at the end of July. Hosted by none other than Walter Adler, the richest man in town. Midnight was approaching, and with it, my deadline. I dressed the part, wearing a maroon dress with a corset torso and a slit up the thigh. My makeup was reminiscent of the famous women in 1950s era America. I was, as they say, dressed to kill. This particular estate had been blessed with a ballroom perfect for gatherings such as these. I was on the second floor of the...
A Stranger in These Lands
The farmer that picks me up notices immediately that I am a foreigner. Though my long, hooded cloak is nondescript, his careful eye lingers on the fine embroidery of my long-sleeved shirt, the glint of metal beneath it. He says nothing about what he sees or assumes; I see him eyeing the space beneath his legs and surmise that there is a weapon there. Nearly an hour passes without him speaking to me.“Is this your first time traveling through Avern lands, madam?” he asks, not turning around. The cart carries us over a large stone in the road. I brace against the farmer’s boxed goods.“Yes,” I sai...