Tales

A small bell affixed above the door clinks as the Grave-Keeper takes their first step into Oz’s Diner. It’s late, and the establishment is sparsely populated. The Grave-Keeper is disguised, their hood pulled up over their head; no need to worry about the humans seeing their true face.

Arianna: You think Achilles was a real person? Jasmine: Achilles? Arianna: You know… pouty, moody, bad ass, Hector-killing Achilles. Jasmine: That’s just a myth. You know that’s not real. Arianna: I like to think all myths come from something real, even if those things aren’t, well, real.

What makes a Leviathan scary is not simply its size. Many things can be large without eliciting fear. And it’s not simply that one could gobble you up in one bite, oh no. Being eaten is terrifying in its own way (digested, doubly so), but no, that alone is

Choice 1 You stand before a massive body of water: a great lake. The sky is overcast and everything is so misty around you that you can only see about thirty yards in any direction. Behind you, a dense coniferous tree-line forms an ominous barrier. You remove your shoes. You

“Is there some point you’re trying to make?” the Grave-Keeper asked, now fully regretting having pulled over to attend to the dead man. “All stories have points to make, but what point I’ve made is up to you to make sense of — or don’t, I don’t

The dead man began his story: “Once there was a man named Sisyphus who kept a beautiful farm, full of fertile, black soil (this was after he had decided to let the boulder roll away long ago). As he expanded his land, he excavated a beautiful assortment of statues made

The Grave-Keeper reached down and pulled the dead man from his grave — the grave they had just dug for him. The dead man brushed the neutrinos off his vest and spoke, even though his jaw was unhinged on one side. “Thanks for that. Though, I suppose it was your fault

The Grave-Keeper dangled their arm out a window in the not-car. Solar winds brushed against their face as they pushed the pedal to the floor. It had been some time since they’d cruised the Celestial Highway, a long time since they’d made time just for themself. The Highway

“I climbed what seemed an endless staircase and, right when I was about to give up, found myself atop the lighthouse. I’m not sure what I expected to see, for a thick fog obscured anything further than a few feet from my face. I watched as the rotating spotlight

If one achieves Oneness, all achieve Oneness. If one goes astray, all go astray.

Upon my hillsides, aspen trees stand vigil. Much like the mountain itself, these trees see all. Many minds link as one. Why do they shiver? What causes them to quake so? Something prowls the cliffs and crags beyond the forests, something the trees are smart enough to fear. A cold

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

Joni Evers curls her feet up to balance on the wooden seat of an old metal stool. She leans forward, resting her elbows on the workbench and scribbles numbers into a spreadsheet detailing parts, order numbers, and invoices. The jangle of the Auto Shop’s bell disrupts Joni’s emerging

If you encounter a faery on a stroll through the woods, chances are you may be challenged to a faery game — like berry picking. Winning such a game might convince the faery to endow you with the power to heal, but such ability always comes with a caveat…