It came in the mail, a small package, no return address, the handwriting unfamiliar. He smiled to himself. Probably advertising, somebody trying extra hard to sell him something, it looked to be about the size of a CD. A waste of time most likely, but one never knew....
Memory: Guardian of Air - A bard sits beside a northern sea, playing his harp for himself alone. Words pour from him, from the depths of knowledge, of lore, and of poetry. He is the guardian of words... he remembers... he names... he tells the stories so they will...
In her right hand, Martina held the ankle of a teenaged girl, running her fingers over the contours as she examined it closely. How old had she been? Seventeen? Maybe eighteen? No older than nineteen, that was for sure. Certain bones had not yet fused. Guatemala's...
On my windowsill is a potted cilantro plant. It was Diego's. He was always cooking. He never quite adjusted to American spices and preferred his native Mexican, especially cilantro, which must be used absolutely fresh if it's to taste right. The first time he invited...
His hands were shaking as he lit the joint, and the first puff was for him, herbal courage. Then he held it for her and she closed her eyes as she drew on it. "Thanks," she sighed as she exhaled. "You're so sweet." "You can have the next one." "Thanks." She took...