Cold Reception_The Human Scale_Headhunter_Piper: A Comedic Tragedy
Catalog Guide:
Cold Reception
Warning: This story contains an instance of strong language.The entrance hall of the Warrior’s Guild was much the same as Luthar remembered. The dark grey stone was reassuringly constant, as were the weather-beaten windows which looked out. Smoke rose from the chimney as fires were lit inside to protect against the first chills of autumn. Heaving his bag onto his shoulder, Luthar stepped forward and pushed open the door iwww.onedoor.ccnto his home.Forever reliable, Terence sat at his desk, taking a gulp of something from a flask. The wind disturbed his papers as Luthar shut the door, setting him to grumblin...
The Human Scale
The beginning of the end, of what Stanley and others called phase I civilization, or pre-Ruin, began when immigrants left there home countries in hordes because the land began to be overrun by water at the coasts. This began slightly after the last glacier melted and ice began floating everywhere. Then someone got hold of a nuclear fission bomb and The Big Kabooma it finally happened, but no savior came and neither did the end of the world. That according to phase II civilixation history happened about three centuries ago. The X in civilixation was pronounced the same as the z in civilization....
Headhunter
“I’m going to lose,” said Mazon. He shuddered as a breeze crept through the alley. The cold sweat on his back made the turtleneck sticky and the leather vest over it even more uncomfortable. “Probably,” said Cloose. He had his back to the wall opposite Mazon. The sulfur from the match he lit stunk as he put it to the pipe balanced between his teeth. He took a puff and stomped the match into the dirt. “But you’re not accounting for luck. I’ve seen guys twice your size lose.”“But have you ever seen a guy like me win?” asked Mazon. Cloose stood silent, staring at the blackened match wedged betwe...
Piper: A Comedic Tragedy
[ Spring]“I remember..” my grandmother’s pencil-thin brows condescendingly rose with a tilt of her pointy nose to the ceiling, staring me down. “Oh, mother. Leave her alone! ” My mother shooed the air as she placed a plate of sliced black beans with a side of fresh honey in the center of the table. Smaller dishes of sweet & savory treats like moss salad dressed with sap and slivers of rice or my favorite; salted pumpkin seed soup. “Well! The past isn’t all that life is about, Gramma! ” I said enthusiastically but also gave her a wide death stare with a cunning grin while I helped mom serve be...