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Stories abound.  They are everywhere.  Some stories are massive and glorious like a monument, a structure of marble and stained glass.  Some are humble and simple like a puff of cloud or a puddle of water.  And some stories–most perhaps–are somewhere in between, small, but complex, more than first meets the eye…like a feather.

Everyone has stories.  Here, I will tell you some of mine.

Welcome to Storyfeather.

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Five Friends of the Feast Cook

Once, in a neighboring galaxy, not so long ago, in the space between two sister stars, there spun a station.

It was a station like any other. Many different peoples passed through on their way to other realms, whether for pleasure, profit, or other deeper purposes. Many lived and worked upon the station. Some never ventured beyond the unseen boundaries of the station’s space.

But there came a time when the station took upon itself the burden and the honor of hosting a most profound and prestigious feast. A feast that would celebrate a long-sought but fragile new peace between the peoples of a nearby world.

Among the many workers who would provide delights to the guests was an unrenowned cook who won a contest to prepare a dish for the feast.

He was a stellar elf, whose family had lived upon the station but for one generation. And his name was Fiorenzo.

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Rain of the Bacteriophage

“…and Tower Three, Level Nine, Shift One, report your status, please,” the pleasantly professional voice on the other end of the communications channel requested.

Even though she’d already performed and submitted a thorough and systematic check, Vera turned her head slightly to the right, glancing at all the green indicator lights on the bioreactor beyond the glass. She turned back to her console and said. “Tower Three, Level Nine, Shift One end. Vera Pine signing out of duty. All is good.”

“Not for long,” a falsely sinister voice said, in a half-whisper from behind her.

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Cosmic Cheesecake Dust

“Now that you mention it,” Marhtimid said, “I’ve always wondered about it, but I thought it would be rude to ask.”

He raised an upper limb above his head to reach the overhead light, adjusting it for the third time that hour.

Nadine glanced up at the overhead light and then down to her mission partner, her brows and cheeks rising. “I think I know where there is going.”

“Am I proceeding, or…?”

Nadine did a quick check of their telemetry on the tiny screen running at her left. “Go for it, Marty. Attack this delicate little human ego of mine.”

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Three Girls With Fangs

“Why aren’t we talking about what happened last night?” She glanced around the room. “To Robin.”

Chairs squeaked, and breaths were exhaled. But no one responded. They looked to the front of the room.

“Because we don’t know what happened,” Sarita said. “All we have right now are rumors and gossip. Is that going to help anyone?” She swept her dark gaze over the dozen girls in the room.

“He’s in a coma,” Jolene said. “After studying all night.”

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The Lamplight Apparition

To see her return in this way. Is it any worse than losing her altogether? I don’t know.

My hands are shaking. I can barely…

The more she lingers, the more I wonder if this is really her.

The bright blue eyes are watching, always watching.

They are her eyes.

But she’s not in them.

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