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Works of Short Fiction

Works of short fiction

Spoils of the harvest

The Magic of Childhood
The log exploded. Black vespers curled out, slinking and snaking towards Dad. He waved the splitting maul through the dark tendrils and they burst into fine particles. The glass orb at the butt of the maul flashed bright blue, like the after image of a lightning strike. Any time I
Scabbard
He sits on the log, a stump really, one hand gripping the scabbard, and the other sliding the blade in and out, no doubt imaging that each thrust is into some enemy, maybe one that his father defeated, or more likely, one bigger and tougher, one that only he could
Tessellation Breakdown
0.0 TESSELLATION BREAKDOWN The box was empty. It was the second impossible event of the morning. First, the symmetry drive was failing; now the reserve ammunition was gone. Wemly forced the gun into her boot. Thirteen shots and then death, if she wasn’t dead already. 0.1 Wemly made