Antwohnette

(6 posts)

March 14, 2024

Caliban backs away into the twisted facsimile of Greenwich Village, losing sight of whatever creature is pretending to be Antwohnette. “Why are you trying to abandon me, Caliban?” A voice behind him asks. Caliban slowly turns around. Standing in the middle of the street, one arm crossed to hold her

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March 07, 2024

Antwohnette… the name sounds so familiar, like the memory of dream you can’t remember. The young woman’s extended hand emerges from shadow, a harsh line of darkness slicing across her wrist. “Caliban, come. We’re looking for a new home. I think we may have found it.” Home.

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February 29, 2024

Caliban slinks through nighttime city streets — a warped facsimile of Greenwich Village. He stands a full story high, only remaining concealed due to his black fur which seems to absorb any light that touches his frame. How did he get here? Was he supposed to be this large? Wasn’t

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February 15, 2024

The setting sun glints through the windows of the Dino Station. The door opens. A rush of sound and air sweeps in — behind the counter, Claire Crowley senses a coming storm. Harvey Jones, a regular, stands slack-jawed in front of her. Something had happened. Something was wrong.

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September 28, 2023

Antwohnette’s feet fall heavy in the snow. Ka-chunk, Ka-chuck — each step has two points of impact: the initial step and the sinking as the snow gives way. Caliban, meanwhile, effortlessly trots along beside her, weaving among the trees. His black feet offer harsh contrast against the white. “How do

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May 18, 2023

“What d’you think’s out there?” Antwohnette sits on a rickety porch propped up on makeshift stilts, staring out across an endless sea of amber grass. Caliban curls up next to her. “Trouble,” he says. Antwohnette runs her hand through his black fur. “You think it’s worth it?

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