Funny, today didn’t begin different than any of the innumerable days that passed since we entered this prison.
Wise men, indeed. It was I who taught the Star-Tongue to the mothers of their great-grandmothers; but, as always, the men stole the knowledge from the women. Stole it and misunderstood it: turned it into a secret code of magic and mathematics, rather than simply talking to the Stars as one intellect to another.
Below, the night shadows of stovepipe chimneys stencil sloped and snow-clad rooftops. Overhead, an ocean of stars runs unbroken from one horizon to the other. A castle sits atop a hill in this venerable city and, across the ice-choked river, factories and steam locomotives crouch in their silent tracks and yards.
The clock has been in my family for three generations, handed down from father to eldest son. It is a mantel-piece, hand-wound, but no less elegant for its compactness and simplicity. And I alone will not pass it on, because I stopped winding it the day he died.
At this moment, I care little about the wider world. Beneath me, just a silken stroke away, lies the essence of all that I am. He’s inches from sleep, but fighting it.
The first thing we learned was that dogs were useless. At the first flickers of motion on the horizon, they barked, charging the perimeter of the habitat dome, but as soon as we got a firebird overhead, roaring, flames crackling along their eleven-meter wings?
The car passed smoothly over the bridge into Pennsylvania, but Kendall Bradley, consumed by rage, barely noticed. All he knew was that he was only ten miles or so from her house now. The car would find its way, allowing his fury to simmer without distraction.
Narrated by Dafydd McKimm breezes pick up and the soft sound of rubbing paper, reminds tingting of the scratchy way her ah-ma folds paper cranes when she’s lonely globes dangle in the street against the night sky, plunging the darkness with bioluminescence she fishes out a sweet, sticky dumpling from her soup, […]
Narrated by Ashley B. Davis I touch things to soak up their years. This hunger has become insatiable though; my local history is not enough anymore. Everything is too green, only a couple thousand years old. I need to go to Europe and touch the buildings there. Better yet, Greece. Egypt. But everything’s been […]
Narrated by Les Wicks Innumerate days, uncountable grass. Over Faro, North Carolina two hydrogen bombs were dropped and somehow didn’t detonate, 1961. Minot AFB, six cruise missiles went missing. Oops a lally! Those transport planners should have talked more to their clerks. Almost nothing happened. January 25, 1995 Mr. Yeltsin sobered up and was […]