| Where there's a Weewoo, there's a way |
Circulation: 194,279,236 |
Issue: 755 | 28th day of Collecting, Y18 |
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We found the following 8 result(s) for the keyword placebo_533
Week - 680
Last Minute Gift (Baskets)
by placebo_533 | | Description: It's coming up to Valentines Day and we all know what that means... |
| Week - 699
Stuck
by placebo_533 | | Description: The first breath was the hardest. They call the last breath ‘the death rattle’, but the first after dying is more than that, worse than that. The shock of it is only half the trouble. It’s like a small fire, or some sort of explosion, igniting in your chest. I saw a ghostkerbomb go off once, with a piercing white fire. It felt the way that bomb had looked. |
| Week - 705
Jack-O-Luncheon
by placebo_533 | | Description: Boo! Aaah! |
| Week - 711
Baby Blues
by placebo_533 | | Description: Hush...
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| Week - 717
Heavy Metal
by placebo_533 | | Description: A Mote. A particle, or speck of dust. A tiny, inconsequential amount of something, usually pictured floating off to nowhere. A little bit of somethingness to punctuate the nothingness. This might be what always made me uneasy, when I thought of motes - that emphasis of space. At least, I think it was; before that day, when I started thinking something else. |
| Week - 720
The Riddle of The Sphinx
by placebo_533 | | Description: Two travelers must answer... |
| Week - 750
True Colour
by placebo_533 | | Description: Gerard lay back, content at last, as the final word of his latest story dried on the paper. Complete at last. Already his head stormed with new ideas and fresh enthusiasm. No matter how many novels, or how many short stories, each began like first steps - brimming with new life and possibility. |
| Week - 755
The Truth About Clowns
by placebo_533 | | Description: At the beginning of Autumn, the clowns started to appear. They came out at night mostly. They would stand in the middle of the street, and watch you. They would peer into windows. You might find them looming in the dark at a park, at the local shop - anywhere and everywhere they appeared. |
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 Chasing Treasure: Part Six
Bannok prodded gingerly at his bad shoulder. It wasn't bleeding - wasn't even that badly hurt, on the surface - but the whole thing was a blue-black mess of bruise. He was only grateful that the swelling was being kept under control by the tight bandage he'd wrapped around it. His ribs, though. One of those was cracked at least, maybe broken.
by aethelar |
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 Return to the Gallery of the Dolls
I can’t help but stare at Amulatt like she has lost her little Eventide head. Or grown a second one. I have her repeat what she said, slowly. “Thou hast a request to return to Neovia. I doth believe thy Friend said ‘as quick as your Peophin legs can carry you or I’ll destroy you.’
by skutterbotched |
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