Stories

Nobody has been up here except me for three months. Save the night ones. Nobody wants to be up here, in the mountains. Not so far away as this. The…

            Despite his vocation, Titus Gondelbert had no fondness for corpses. Every Sunday there was a new batch: cut down from the gallows, beheaded in the public square, or all those…

When he came to, the man was sprawled face-down over a bed of rough rocks. A sound drifted away, familiar though its name raced just out of his grasp. Where…

AD 1865 It was late morning when Arthur Keane arrived at the brow of the hill and saw the  farmhouse. Aside from the smoke that drifted from its chimney, there were…

Bill Richards wasn’t the type of man to drive aimlessly throughout the city, yet, for the past two hours, he’d been doing just that. Since his doctors had advised him…