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Asa Elry

  Asa Elry By Tony Daly Asa Elry knelt beside a man she could not recognize. He was being consumed by the dark curse: the unholy spell Slemt Rass had created to assault the citizens of Gerutra. Most of the man’s face and the right side of his body melted into a dark tar-like substance loosely resembling the shape of the man underneath. Currently, it was on the surface of his skin, working its way into his body. She knew it hadn’t reached his central nervous system, because he hadn’t yet tried to kill her. Asa had learned from her instructors that,...

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Steps Saga Part 6 – Hounds of the Mind

Steps Saga Part 6 – Hounds of the Mind By Thomas J. Lauser I He stood outside the Grand Temple of Nez’Gar, waiting as droves of Seragorn warriors entered to receive their post-victory tattoos. Dressed in a plain brown hood and robe, with only his bodyguard by his side, none knew the Arkresh of the Seragorn was among them. When at last the line ended, Venomar motioned to Bazra, removed his hood, and moved swiftly through the temple halls and into the Pan’Heyla Lodge. There, in between rows of cots, a half dozen shaman sat around a large basin...

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When Mirabelle Lost Her Love

When Mirabelle Lost Her Love By Rose Strickman   When Mirabelle lost her love, she set out to regain what had been stolen from her. Packing a bag with a comb, a canteen, a knife, and food, she cut herself a cane and put on her wide-brimmed hat. Thus equipped, she left the green valley her people had carved from the ruined land, and set out to find her love. Her parents wept to see her go, for none who ventured beyond the valley ever returned. Her people wailed and begged; she ignored them all, eyes set on the...

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Waiting By Lorne McMillan People around town called him Bobby, but this was not his name. He wasn’t sure from where the name had come, or who had first called him by it. He even thought of himself as Bobby whenever he visited Brooksfield. He came out of the Ultra-Mart store and sat on the bench, placing his shopping bag on the seat beside him. Here, he would wait for his ride to arrive. He hoped it wouldn’t be long; there was no greater waste of time than waiting, as far as he was concerned. He’d rather be forced...

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Fated or Mated

  Fated or Mated By Tom Snethen   I faced a gauntlet through a purgatory of my own making. Ryan Hogue, fifty, unready for whatever awaited. “Wassamatter, honey? Lose your spunk in the lingerie store?” Janet—my wife’s ghost. “You never bought anything that sexy for me.” I’d bought gowns and intimates ten minutes ago on speculation I’d meet a woman soon. The local widower was almost ready to meet someone and totally unfit for romance afterward. I slinked to the concourse wall and removed my jacket, revealing my shirt’s message: Do You Have a Marriageable Mother? I stepped away and bumped a woman I knew. I stumbled but didn’t fall, trying to smile. Her lips moved as she read my shirt. She lifted her cell and clicked. Whoop-tee-do, another Facebook moment. “Buck up, booby, and don’t wet yourself.” My ever-vigilant companion—married for life and beyond. My idea had sounded brilliant yesterday—waltz into the mall’s food court wearing this shirt and engineer a courtship’s beginning. Now I wanted to hide behind the hair I’d surrendered this morning—my first shave in the six months since Janet had died. I should ditch my clothes and sprint naked to my car. “Take out your car keys first.” Practical Janet. I arrived at the food court—with dry shorts. I bought an iced tea and sat. Will my shirt work? People stopped to see who...

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