Short Stories

Versailles, 1697 As you whirl around the room amidst glittering reflections, you whisper when he is close enough, “Do you know, Mr. Citizen Scientist…there is another room with mirrors…the King’s secret place…only his closest friends know where it is.” His whole delegation is fascinated by the mirrors and other fruits of modern French technology, and…

Your mind is full of plans for the Dark Planet con on Saturday and you fumble the key in the lock. Finally you get the door open, tossing your Chillin’ Chikkins cap on the hook and heading to the bedroom to put the jacket away. You haven’t tidied up yet from last night’s game session,…

River Styx, no date Crowds are noisy things, but this mighty throng is silent. Waking, you would know its size without thought, but here you cannot count the people. And for some reason, this scares you, in your dream, as little would in real life. This uncountable crowd, on the bank of the river, is…

Ditchingham, 1646 You hear them up ahead. They are quieter than the wind in the grass, their dark clothes and hooded faces invisible in the gathering shadows, but their hungry anticipation shouts out their presence. You would love to stop and play with them, but you have an appointment. …read more on Medium.

Ditchingham, 1626 You wake early, a sharp prickling under your skin — something in the world is not right, some hazard intrudes. You check your wards, but none are triggered. The demons you track are nowhere near, not even on this plane. Your brother and sister are puttering about, their routines unchanged from the last…

There’s a boy searching the piles of rubbish by the road dejectedly; he’s been up the road and down, without success, and is about to despair. “What are you searching for?” you ask him, although you already know. He turns, disconsolate, shielding his eyes from the sun as he looks up at you. “I’ve lost…

Albion, ca. 1,150 BC You are on a wide moor, featureless apart from low vegetation. It is silvery grey in the moonlight, but there is no moon in the sky, only stars, strange stars, curious constellations that you do not recognize. A horse is ambling towards you over the heath, old and sad and tired,…

Genova, 1415 “There is a place,” you tell the little girl, “Where the world ends, not a sudden cliff or a hole, you understand, just an end, everything fading away until there is no color, no sound, nothing. “And lost things collect there. If you have ever lost a sandal, it went there. If you…

I have several stories teed waiting up for review by various Medium publications, so here’s a quickie while I’m waiting on those: The Drowned Lands “Gram,” you say, as you sink into the hot water, “I had a dream.” Gram is in bed, as usual, but you hear a sleepy response. “I was at the…

My latest short story about Arabella the Witch—Kourosh is the Persian spelling of Cyrus, and this story is about Cyrus I, the grandfather of Cyrus the Great, founder of the Persian Empire. Kourosh “The villagers think I am going to kill you,” you tell him. He looks at you again, and you can feel his…