Once, there was a man who woke one morning, and upon uttering his first word for the day, discovered that the word was stuck in his throat, for the word had turned to stone.
He tried to cough out the stone, but he had uttered the word upon an exhale. He had no breath left to cough. He clutched at this throat, his eyes growing wide when he felt the stone slide down his throat. By instinct, he swallowed, and he felt the heavy lump descend through his chest and drop down into his belly.
Read More The Day That Words Transformed
“It’s a blue cardinal, look.”
Roy looked as Andre swiped through the photos he’d taken of the bird perched on the branches of the tree near the picnic area of his park he’d visited that weekend.
“There’s no such bird, Andre.”
Andre closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose. “That’s because no one has seen him, until now.”
Read More The Man Who Cried Bird
Some people claim they dreamt of the creature before its vast shadow soared overhead and landed on the top of a young redwood.
Most of us have dreamt of it at this point. A gargantuan pterosaur with gold-and-blue feathers like a modern macaw.
Read More The Monstrous and Curious
“Before you kill us,” the philosopher said, standing before fangs dripping with searing venom and six pairs of blazing eyes, “let us ask you a question.”
The philosopher felt her heart beating within her chest. She winced at the feeling. It was not painful. Just sad. Her heart knew this was the moment of her death and it was still aching to keep her from it.
All six of the creature’s eyes were on her, but she was most directly in front of one pair in one giant dog-like head. She knew this one’s name. This one was Lucte. The name meant “grief.”
Read More The Last Night of Grief
“Are you all right?” the voice asked. “Can you tell me your name?”
It was a man. She heard him. She couldn’t see him. All she saw was the bright golden light.
“Do you think you can get up?” he asked.
She didn’t realize that she was down.
Read More The Feather of Arke