Kngfishergrl

The world ends, drowned in streetlights and shadows, in terror and the terrible beauty of light. You stand on the cracked roads, and your wings have lent fear to your mortal legs. You throw yourself at the sky as I did at the last bridge. But there's no rope tying you to now, no rubber cord to save you from the grinning maw, no red cord tying you to my side. You fly until the jagged edges of the city bite into the heaven, until the golden rim of dawn sinks into the bubbling miasma of the sea, until the false light of the moon grows dim and cold. And you are flying still, while I stand beneath the curved halls of the sky. The road you stood o

Memories coalesced into the light of the Train, its speed whipping Kaylin's cheeks raw. The light train had literally become a part of her, an extension of her body and her will, if not completely her mind. She could feel Darus gaining on her, clawing and close, his Zephyr creating obstacles to dash the train and her bones to dust and dreams, if her Zephyr faltered even slightly. Suddenly, she felt the brush of another's  mind upon her own, and before she could jerk herself free it swallowed her whole. Kaylin felt herself falling, the train's controls melting under her hands, the train slowing to a stop despite her attempts to brin

I was hers before you were.

He Keeps his own windows dirty.

She gives them bottles. They scuttle about the place. Sunburned and dirty, spindly limbs covered with threadbare stitches of clothing, eyes too shrewd and dull for children their age. Like long-limbed, scavenging insects they forage through garbage cans and trash heaps, collecting the husks of objects humanity inevitably leaves behind (so they can reach the day's quota and avoid a beating from the Kuya). Their bodies are little more than fragile shells of skin and bone. Whenever she sees one of these children scampering to and from the raw urban wilderness of the University campus, a tattered rice sack slung awkwardly over a shoulder, bulgi

The Universe is still dark, the ground on which you sit is nothing more than a vast, empty stretch of pale sand. The two of you are waiting. At least, you are waiting. The little one beside you is more interested in cupping the sand in its small palms, sifting the grains through its fingers and letting them fall, returning them to themselves. Each grain is identical to the other, and though a handful is as light as the nothingness surrounding them they couldn't be blown away. There is no air. The little one playing in the sand is still almost entirely formless. Naked and colorless, but no longer transparent. You can pick out a few key featur

                              COUPON for 1 Dream: Grade B It was with a slightly incredulous smile that the Merchant held up the slip of printed pink cardboard. Eyes green as patina slid to the young girl in front of him. "And this is?" He asked. "It's what it looks like," the girl in her early teens by the looks of her, had a flat, no-nonsense quality to her voice. She was dressed in a none-too-new white statement shirt and denim jeans, and her feet were clad in cheap converse knock-offs, bought