| White Weewoos don't exist. *shifty eyes* |
Circulation: 193,800,643 |
Issue: 715 | 15th day of Sleeping, Y18 |
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Eclectic Antics: The True Ghoul Catchers
by amarettoball
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Great stories!
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 Plight of a Knight
The chains jangled on my legs and wrists like bells. They had blindfolded me, but a musty scent told me wherever I was going was grimy and cold. The guide beside me kept a firm grip on my arm as I inched along, as my body moved me forward in spite of myself.
by darkpixie28 |
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 We Ordinary Few
They stood there, in the pouring rain, waiting for the end of the world. It was always the end of the world, in a child’s eye. A year lived to a five year old is a millennia, a day a decade of turbulence and revolution. Time moves like molasses when one’s running through their fathers’ poppy garden at the speed of sound, the most minor changes an earthquake rocking the world out of orbit. This change was anything but minor.
by cherishtwilight |
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