A slight thing collapsed inside of Foible; tiny struts bent; everything sagged.

Published in: on November 21, 2010 at 8:17 pm  Leave a Comment  


Behind and in front of him, the map re-coloured and skewed. Only beneath his feet did it hold itself correctly.

Published in: on November 7, 2010 at 8:22 pm  Leave a Comment  


In this part of the room something had snagged in its passage between worlds. Foible watched it squirm then reached down to unhook it; allow it on its way. The thing snarled a warning directly into his mind but Foible continued to reach down. When he touched the thing it writhed as if burned then lay still. From the TV came the sound of people talking up artefacts, words and words and words that could not penetrate the artefacts’ inherent uselessness. Foible turned away to the TV, then back, and the thing was gone.

Published in: on November 6, 2010 at 8:00 pm  Leave a Comment  


Caught fast the light: slung, pasted, snared, coiled, pooled. So, this is the view from all hotel windows, Foible thought. This is the collision of intent and execution. This is the speedy urban glacier carving its way down the valley. This is our mark here. He turned back to his room and lay on the bed. The TV was stuffed and bursting with formula shows. A woman was killed; others thought themselves around her death with devices and charisma. Eventually an arrogant or feeble man admitted too easily the crime. Foible slept and woke, as usual at 4:32 am. The light was different because the glacier had moved on.

Published in: on November 6, 2010 at 7:54 pm  Leave a Comment