My Non-Euclidean Love
At 3:13 am we hear noises in the hall. I take off my CPAP mask and shut down the machine to hear...
Read Moreby Arthur Petersen | Oct 28, 2024 | Fiction | 0
At 3:13 am we hear noises in the hall. I take off my CPAP mask and shut down the machine to hear...
Read Moreby Arthur Petersen | Jun 5, 2019 | Fiction | 0
Part Two: Spark of Life Nine months later, a beautiful baby girl increased their family by one. They named her Cloethel, in honor of Thrala’s favorite handmaiden whom she regretted bitterly to have forgotten in the tumultuous...
Read Moreby Arthur Petersen | Jun 5, 2019 | Fiction | 0
Part One: Flame of Love Thrala hid silver coins in her gloves so that should one fall out she would pretend to spy it on the ground and tell her handmaiden to fetch it for her. She did not content herself with appearing rich....
Read Moreby Arthur Petersen | Jun 5, 2018 | Fiction | 0
Inortumo, the sorcerer, called all the men of his castle to the great hall. The sigils that ringed the wall had been covered by a band of violet silk. The immense tapestries were gone. The censers and customary fires were empty,...
Read Moreby Arthur Petersen | Jun 5, 2013 | Fiction | 0
Teucalas once inquired of Bocologon the Mimrite, “The men of my tribe would go mad if they were made to do all the needful things one does inside Mimri. An elevated man says heed this, another, heed that. To observe all...
Read Moreby Arthur Petersen | Jun 5, 2013 | Fiction | 0
Teucalas hung from the harsh edge of the cliff. One hand clasped with Orugoro, the other held his reddened sword. Their eyes locked. He kicked off his boots to see if his toes could find a better grip upon the cliffside. They...
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