Tales

“Those who call The Well home are each provided a house. They are less ‘dream-houses’ and more explorations of personality and soul. Many a first-time denizen has been unsettled by the sudden appearance of a house meant ‘just for them’, yet they never refuse hospitality. Better to sleep in an

So I sat on a log among the hill folk, unsure if I were still among the land of dreams or not. A woman with skin the color of the deep blue, midnight sky approached. As she stepped through shifting moonlight, her arms and face scintillated as if she were

Todd couldn’t believe it. After everything he’d been through to make it to Harvest, those incredulous pencil-pushers were sending him back to the flatlands. He’d come to them for help, but as usual they couldn’t see how dangerous the situation had become. True, now that The

Beyond our personal consciousness exists a Universal Consciousness, the source, the Ground of Being, from which we all come and to which we all return.

Yesterday, a strange man entered the headquarters of The Inquirer and Reflection. This man (named Todd) was quite angry with us; he claimed to be an employee of the paper! When we told him we had no record of his employment, now or in the past, he grew red in

Perched upon Scrivener’s Point, the spirit of inspiration casts its gaze upon the wilds beyond. Many people, many lives, but always the same spirit. Is that what I think it is? There, floating high on some fluffy collection of water vapor… is that, a castle? Imagination flows — ships in

The Skeleton King stepped over stars and hopped over a beautiful, blue and orange nebula to set me down among the hill folk. “These folk can be trusted,” the king said. “You’ll be safe here.” He turned and prepared to leap into the cosmos once more, but before he

The cosmos is vast and unknowable. Through consciousness we venture and make contact with the unknown. This is the limitation of our existence.

I sat in the hand of the Skeleton King as he carried me away from the castle. He oscillated between jovial and dejected. I suppose mood swings are to be expected when one has been dead long enough to become a monarch. “What were you doing in there?” The king

Our sense of self is our greatest strength and our greatest weakness. The self allows our personal consciousness to navigate the seas of existence, but so too does it prevent our communion with the Universal Consciousness.

“Little People are fierce protectors of nature. Don’t mistake their size and demeanor for frailty. A lone boulder in a field may remain untouched because the locals know, or perhaps fear, that it is the home for the faeries that inhabit the land. Disrespecting the faeries’ homes can lead

“Faeries, or Little People as the locals refer to them, are reclusive beings. One might take a hundred strolls through the woods and never encounter evidence of their existence. However, travel into the deep woods and you may chance across one. Caution, though! You must respect these areas of nature

The threads of existence are intertwined with consciousness. Without consciousness the cosmos would cease to exist. This is the Great Paradox.

“Good luck, Tracy!” “Surprise, Tracy!” What a fucking joke, Tracy thinks to herself. From bumfuck nowhere to hillbilly central. How’d an aspiring Pulitzer-caliber writer end up stuck with these cryptid-fawning tabloids. None of this work is going to garner any recognition (with sane people, at least). If Harvest didn’

“I ventured farther into the lighthouse. It’s funny — lighthouses are small places, yet in our imaginations they seem like castles. Shadows cling to my limbs. Ahead is a cracked door, a light peeking through creases in the darkness. I’m drawn to the door — who wouldn’t be? But