Serial and short fiction.
Crawling thing, on the floor of my room, are there many more of you? Vilest evil through and through Tell me: why so many arms? Is it to count the charms That I have sought Made and Bought? To keep you from my house Loathéd more than roach or mouse Or snarling rat with plague…
The Englishman had been instructed to bring two pairs of shoes with him to school; one for indoors, one for out. Like most of the things he was instructed to do for work, he had forgotten. This meant that he was forced to borrow a pair of slippers from the school cupboards every day;…
The rains came early that year. Waves would crash against the seawall while thunder rolled down from the hills. Furuyama-san carried an umbrella with her, but it was of little use when the afternoon rains came down. She sat inside her shed, listening to the drops pounding down onto the tiled roof. She kept the…
The Ottawan Hamster is older than most, He lives in the city but was born on the coast; His stalk is as tall as an elephant’s eye The elephant in question being the size of a fly; He’s green as a daisy and round like a brick, If you look at his teeth,…
Last night, I had a dream we flew Pacific Northwest again. But we never can. I suppose I should introduce myself, but I won’t; suffice to say, you’d probably pronounce my name wrong. Certainly they did when I first boarded that plane, all those years ago: “Hello, Miss” an incomprehensible murmur. Nowadays, I would…
The Bienvenant is one of the more modern species of ghosts, and possibly the first I ever personally encountered. They are largely benevolent, existing mostly to put at ease newcomers to their haunt. When I was twenty three, I moved to the city of Edinburgh and was welcomed by a downpour the likes…
She took her shears from his hands, wiped the traces of dirt off the handle, and carefully put them down on the grass behind her. She lifted a broken piece of wood from out of her tomato patch, and carefully drew out two characters next to they boy’s name: å¤å±± “I am Furuyama-san….
Furuyama-san gazed towards the bright morning sun. She slowly shifted her balance from foot to foot, her right hand idly gripping a pair of shears. A shadow moved slowly towards her, framed against the natural angles of the village houses. The shadow became larger. Furuyama-san slowly leaned down and plucked up a…
It was, simply put, too hot. The sun watched the classroom with a sort of bored malevolence, reaching down its long fingers and poisoning whatever it touched with a brush of its hand. Everything radiated heat: the walls, the chairs, the desks; everyone in the room was shifting in a low-key rhythm, trying to find…