My journal of big words and pretty pictures
The acrid taint of burning incense did nothing to mask the rancid stink that permeated the desecrated sanctuary. Reavers had crawled over the walls and altar like leather beetles, stripping the trappings of the sanctuary like flesh from bone. Taking their pickings, reavers left their leaders to bask in the profane overthrow. Their chief, Rolf, sprawled … Continue reading Divine retribution
Sitting among the old and crumbling books, Jacob lovingly laid his hand on the tallest stack sitting on a wooden cart. Sounds of marauders filtered through the hundreds of shelves of abandoned stories. The raucous ruins now the antithesis to his once somber and silent sanctuary. The last remaining phantom library, the Grand Canton Repository … Continue reading Repository
Goodwood Duxford tales... Late into the night, Goodwood Duxford, caretaker and ghost wrangler for Gramberly Cemetery, and Lilith Trotter, Goody’s best friend and recently departed, perused old cemetery records, Duxford family scrapbooks, and internet resources, trying to recover the names of each of the 13 fatalities in the 1954 Gallatin Bros. Circus and Sideshow Fire. … Continue reading To mask the grim
Mama always said, “leave them with a little lagniappe, it’ll keep them coming back for more.” Like putting a sprig of mint in a sweating mason jar of ice-cold sweet tea, it’s the only thing that’ll simmer down that summer heat. It’s that heat that gets them. They aren’t expecting so much spellbinding sultriness. They … Continue reading A little something extra
Goodwood Duxford tales… Foregoing any pretense of calm or daring, Goody and his eclectic group scrambled away from the brick piles, across the open field, racing over the footbridge and back into Gramberly Cemetery proper. Goody closed the rustic gate, setting a binding on it in an attempt to keep the Banished spirits in the … Continue reading Gambling man
Goodwood Duxford tales... The mound of bricks was a haphazard scatter of broken masonry columns mixed with single terra-cotta bars, still a vibrant burnt orange. Tuffs of green poked up through cracks along the outer perimeter, but the weeds and field grass were remarkably tame considering the decades of opportunity to overwhelm the pile. The … Continue reading The walls came tumbling down
Thin spiral notebook 