Would the soldier, afforded an afterlife and a memory of the things they were and the places they'd been, conjure up thoughts of well-placed shots, violent ambushes, victory over the enemy? Would a stockbroker dream of their numbers, their material things, their portfolios? Would a priest recall the moments they stood on the dais above … Continue reading Headland
Writing
Vestiges
There are people in this world that make it easy for us to to turn the word "human" into something pejorative. These are the people that would have you believe that selfish pursuits are our pinnacle, that greed and lust for power are virtues. These are people that don't see humanity for what it has … Continue reading Vestiges
Day Thirty-Three – The Mysteries of Porcine Aeronautics and You
I've not written an Inner Wild piece in a while. I'm not sure where this fits, or what planet this is on, or who Meretricious Mandy really is. I just know she's a Solarian, and I know why they call her Meretricious Mandy. --- Limping back from a long day on the hunt, Meretricious Mandy … Continue reading Day Thirty-Three – The Mysteries of Porcine Aeronautics and You
Day Thirty – Quality Stock Tips From an Okapi (or, Mr. China Has Seven Splinters)
--- TRecTm5.2218.14.11.x.x Rprt -22.22.511.5.5.167.3.7.vv.20491 Earth Interplanetary Logistics and Colonization - Robotic Recon Team - Report - Assmt. 17501.R.TR73 ||\\|| BEGIN REPORT ||\\|| WRECKAGE OF ARTEMIS LANDER : MSN TtnRcn2203 : CONFIRMED ENVIRONMENT SEALS BROKEN ID OF FOUR OF FIVE TEAM MEMBERS CONFIRMED DOCTOR ABRAHAM TOLLE: DECEASED, BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA PTY OFR RAYMOND GILFREY: DECEASED, CAROTID … Continue reading Day Thirty – Quality Stock Tips From an Okapi (or, Mr. China Has Seven Splinters)
Day Twenty-Nine – Papercut Moseby’s Left Withered
There is darkness and sound--a repetitive thud and scraping of metal. I feel heat radiating around me, and I feel trapped and claustrophobic. I cannot move my body more than a few inches in any direction. There are walls surrounding me, lined with soft silk. I feel myself pressed against a cushion to my back--laying … Continue reading Day Twenty-Nine – Papercut Moseby’s Left Withered
Day Twenty-Eight – A Message Written in Mustard Beneath a Park Bench in a Secluded Spot Near the Lake Where Maddie Gantt Found the Possum With the Eye Infection
If you were to find yourself so inclined to dive into that mirror, you would likely find me halfway through that diamond maelstrom, regarding you with disdain from some reflective abode - perhaps a corner of shattered glass, an edge, a wink of light among thousands. That's what you want, and you know it - … Continue reading Day Twenty-Eight – A Message Written in Mustard Beneath a Park Bench in a Secluded Spot Near the Lake Where Maddie Gantt Found the Possum With the Eye Infection
Slayer of the Winter, art thou here again?
I've never been a January resolutionist. I mean, honestly, I've tried, I just fail repeatedly. There's something overly oppressive about January and February that just impedes progress for me. Perhaps it's the cold, the fewer hours of sunlight, or the usual gap between holidays that afford me a day off from work and school. Most … Continue reading Slayer of the Winter, art thou here again?
Godhood of the Infinitesimally Small 