The Waste (V)

Lucius and Ignatius were seasoned hands when it came to setting up their camp.  They easily retrieved their tent from what seemed to be a disorganized pile of sacks, bags, and boxes.  Paris regarded the size of the bag with dubious curiosity, but from the too-small-seeming package they unfolded, little by little an unexplainably large piece of […]

Open Heart Epilogue (XXII)

Tristan headed for the eastern edge of the small town. Casually, lightly, and easily, he glided across the stone paving of the street. He meandered in, out, and around clusters of townsfolk.  He swung around two merchants engaged in a heated argument near an overturned cart. He smiled, when a young girl with a basket […]

Open Heart Palpitation (XX)

His lifeless arm drifted towards the floor, the weight of the orb easily overpowering the functionless musculature and bone.  The tool had fallen from his grasp, and his fingers had lifted from their restrictive position upon  the rings of the sphere, yet the shiny circles remained motionless.  His arm pivoted backward at the elbow, and […]

Open Heart Cataclysm (XIX)

Tristan rose, unhurriedly, from his kneeling position.  He turned, and made his way back to the bathroom.  He moved in a confidently, curiously relaxed manner. When he returned to his prior position, facing the mirror, he brought his hand up and regarded the object pinched between his fingers. It was several inches long, made of […]

Eron’s Void

Eron sat, placidly, palms down, atop the rough pine, at the long, cheap, unfinished, wooden workbench. In some considerations, in a different setting, and under alternative light, the bench may have been a table.   But here, it was not. Eron tilted his head to the left, and glanced at the few dozen, closely-packed people, positioned […]

Open Heart Assimilation (XV)

Tristan stood at the shore of an expansive lake.  He searched the twilight for a shore across the water, but he found little definitive evidence, beyond a far-off treeline, to determine an end to the liquid mirror. His feet impressed upon the soft, damp, ghostly, grey and silver sand.  He pinched small chunks between his […]

Open Heart Devouring (XIV)

With the fingers of his right hand still pinching the key, Tristan held the panel open, and his left hand maintained it’s grip on the large section of muscle and flesh.   Tristan was frozen for several moments, as he took in the unorthodox scene, reflected into his eyes from the mirror.  Several droplets of crimson […]