Three Different Ways:
Dreams, Madness, and Myths
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Dream Journal: 2015-05-04.01
Dreamt I was passing through some Back Mountains territory as part of my traveling from Here to There. The local folk greeted me with pleasant neutrality but gave me wary stinkeye behind my back. “Just passing through. Don’t even have time to be a dumbass tourist.” We all knew what I was really saying though. As…
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Dream Journal: 2015-04-26.01
The young man spits obscenities at me from the confines of the dining room chair his parents have tied him to. I ask them if they had followed my instructions and called for the local priest to come later in the evening. They assured me the priest would be there. The legally adult youth (bound…
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Dream Journal: 2015-04-13.01
Keri dreams about immersive MMORPGs again, and no good deed goes unpunished. 1,517 words.
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Dream Journal: 2015-04-12.01
The hawk-headed god was strangely soft in his request. “I know this is unusual, but would you hold on to the deceased for a while before escorting the deceased to the Passage of the Dead? There is a complication that must be resolved.”
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Nothing Lasts
One of the first woo tools I made was Snake’s Rod. I didn’t know what I was making then, and just went by instinct and personal sense of style. (Spoiler: It is the macaroni art of wand decoration.) It was the rod co-opted by something greater when the entity J was cut away from me and…
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Murmurs
Bloodied hands made soft through violence. How is it the very thing that would destroy me upholds me when I have lost the ability to stand? Holy destruction that cannot be assuaged. Your shelter has saved me from myself and from the blows of those unlawful works. How is it you are not my enemy?…
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Tender
Though you be almost ageless you are ever still the tender slut that first emerged without blemish from churning restless Okeanos. They say you were quick to be clothed though no cloth could ever hide that fragrant skin that shames roses or the shape of that perfect thigh. It would take more than poetry to…
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Dream Journal: 2015-02-23.01
No one recognized me as I entered the tattoo parlor. Weaver may have one helluva reputation, but Keri is just another human as far as this corner of the realms was concerned. So no one gave me a second look as I signed a pseudonym on the check-in register and took my seat between the…
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Dream Journal: 2015-02-21.01
I placed the plastic baggie on the shelf in my lair, next to Horatio’s skull. That the spirit cards came with me from the dream into the lair confirmed that this was not an isolated incident in Otherworld. The spirit’s hate felt like dry heat emanating from the plastic, but it was not anything to…
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Dream Journal: 2015-02-20.02
I can’t get a break even in a dream. A disaster required that the neighborhood be evacuated. The local authorities had their hands full, so a call was made for volunteers of any and all persuasions to assist. I answered the call as a firemonger. The disaster was halted, but the neighborhood was still dangerous…