Beyond the Dreaming

Each time is like the first time, even though each time is nothing like the first time. The world stretches and churns, then comes the falling out of the world into some place that has no name or description. It is a maelstrom of pressure, sound, colours and shapes tossing against the body as it

The Danger of Stories

This is what comes from telling stories all my life. I can no longer remember what was true and what I made up. I would tell stories in each village I passed through, for food, ale and somewhere to sleep. Then then the women came to me in the night, looking for a further taste

None of it is True

This is not going to be one of those stories about what could have been. Nor is it going to be about what ought to have been. Then again, it is not a story about what was. None of this ever happened. At least it didn’t’ happen this way… no matter what she tells you.

The Emperor’s Favourite

She had a name. It was not the name given by her father at her birth as tradition demanded. Sometimes it felt as though that first name and the life it lived belonged to someone else. Moonmist. That girl stopped existing a long time ago. There had been other names since. Sometimes Shala had trouble

Never the Same

From those days on, it was never the same. How could it be? Grenil had lost everything she had ever known and so the world, and her life in it, could never be the same. At least she’d avoided the fate of the other girls and young women of her village. She’d watched from the

The Prisoner

It was only another day. There was nothing special about it. Mornings happened to Carla, often by surprise. She lay her head down on the pillow at night. Then without any warning, it was morning again. She had dreams, of course. Deep involved dreams that took her to lands and places she had never known

Not Unusual in Itself

Ryan didn’t believe it. That was not unusual in itself. There were a good many things Ryan didn’t believe in, such as astrology, healing crystals, ideologies, Gaia, religions, politics, ghosts, reality television, fate, and several other things he was too busy not to believe in at the moment. However, he did believe in an external

When Dreams Turn to Nightmares

The year fell into cold and darkness. The summer had been long and hot. It felt that something had changed as the late spring eased into early summer. Something new had grown between us in the strengthening summer light. But now the darker days were coming. She turned to me, as the nights grew colder.

A Sacrifice

The darkness was almost solid. Only a handful of stars peeked through the leave in the trees above her. Shifka almost dared not breathe, listening to the rustles and scrabbles of animals in the forest around her as they hunted and were hunted. An owl hooted nearby and something fluttered past her face. Shifka almost

At the Well

There was a time when I used to watch for them. I could tell them by that look in their eyes. They had a look of disappointment in them. As though the world they looked upon was not the world they’d hoped for, or wanted. I saw so many of them in the villages going