by Michael Kingswood Humidity made Carl O’Bannon’s shirt cling to his torso, almost completely soaked despite not being out and about all that long. He felt like he was sweating a river, though in reality it wasn’t all that hot out. It was like an ocean itself was condensing on top of him, and he…
Tag: Story Time
The Shrine of Tulok
by Michael Kingswood Hot wind blew past Thurim, bringing with it the scent of impending rain overtop the other, more earthy odors that seemed to permeate the grasslands he was traversing. It whipped his cloak around behind him as he peered down from the hilltop where he stood. The garment was once bright scarlet but…
Bridge Mending
by Michael Kingswood I’m not a super sentimental guy, but there are times when even I look back on past events through the lens of nostalgia and pine for those long-gone, supposedly simpler times. Never thought an elf would do the same. When they gave the Big Guy the finger over working conditions and left…
Candlemass
by Michael Kingswood Ray knew he was in trouble the instant the lights came on. It wasn’t the two grim faces staring at him, round cheeks and narrowed eyes so similar the two men had to be brothers. No, it was what Ray saw past them that clinched it. A broad window through which he…
Sea Legs
by Michael Kingswood The light from the brass oil lamp hanging from the ceiling above me swirled, sending shadows careening around the room as the lamp swung and twisted about on its chain. The corners of my little room flashed in and out of view as the shadows swam, and I imagined I was somehow…
Legacy
by Michael Kingswood The sky was burning crimson on the eastern horizon. The sun’s disk was a third of the way gone, down into her nighttime abode, and rays of red-orange streamed down through gaps in the partial cloud cover like spotlights, illuminating here and there bits of the rolling grassland before the ridge where…
The Briefcase
by Michael Kingswood The slide of Jack’s Glock locked to the rear, his magazine empty. He reached for another one, only to find his pouches of spare magazines empty. He was plum out of ammo. There were at least two men left of the team that had come after him; the sounds of their movements…
Miss Melody And The Spruce Trail
by Michael Kingswood It wasn’t every day that you rounded a bend in a hiking trail and found a cafe there, waiting for you. At first, Jeff thought he was seeing things. He blinked, then rubbed his eyes. But when he opened them it was still there. Right there at the side of the creek…
Drops In The Storm
by Michael Kingswood The lighting in the overhead seemed to swirl, making little multicolored kaleidoscope patterns in the air over Grant’s head. Twist and swirl, swirl and twist. He felt like his entire body was swirling along with the lights, like he was moving in time with them, and more. Like he was about to…
Drilling For Gold
by Michael Kingswood Autonomous Drilling Unit Seven detected an overspeed condition on one of its drill motor drivetrains. Motor number six was approaching the upper limit of its allowed operational speed band, and the monitoring speed sensor flashed an alert. This prompted a series of diagnostic algorithms, which ADU-7 performed in the background while it…