by Jim Stitzel | Aug 30, 2010 | Stories
This entry is part 1 of 3 in the series GolemRain lashed down on that ravaged plain in furious sheets. The broken earth drank it up through ragged cracks that went down forever. At the center of the plain, a gaping maw of a hole sucked down water in great, sodden...
by Jim Stitzel | Aug 24, 2010 | Stories
Didn’t your mother ever tell you, “Make sure you put on clean underwear because you never know when you might be in a car accident?” Mine sure did. I don’t really know why it matters, though. If you’re in a car accident, underwear is probably the last thing anyone’s...
by Jim Stitzel | Aug 24, 2010 | Stories
The albino stood on the platform and dragged the knife down his forearm. Blood ran in scarlet rivulets over his hand, his fingers. It dripped the sidereal pattern of his god onto the wooden planks around his feet. Before him the air shimmered as it struggled to call...
by Jim Stitzel | Aug 23, 2010 | Stories
The place smelled like shit and piss. “I thought these things didn’t have bodily excretions,” I called out to my partner. “They’re not supposed to,” she replied. “For some reason this one does. Someone’s been hard at work making a clank that can process food the way...
by Jim Stitzel | Aug 18, 2010 | Stories
In hindsight, Trista realized she probably shouldn’t have fallen asleep under that tree. – Pus dripped into Trista’s eyes from the multiple infected sores on her scalp. She wanted to wipe it away, but the tree held her fast, pinning her arms to her sides, arms...
by Jim Stitzel | Aug 18, 2010 | Stories
He works quickly, his deft hands flitting over the instruments with a skill that comes from a vast history of experience. He talks while he works. “You are my failure,” he says. “I blame only myself.” He sets one tool down on the tray, picking up the next. “I raised...
