Tales

Old Woman: I wish these young people would not pull down the partitions. Clergyman: Why so? O.W.: Oh, because of the dog… The Clergyman became confused. What the Old Woman said next filled the Clergyman with a dread he carried for the rest of his days: “Don’t you

Set, got of disorder and violence, killed Osiris, as I’m sure you know. But did you know they were brothers? The drama. Guardian of the Scales was Anubis. In the Book of the Dead, Anubis weighed the heart against the “truth” to determine who could enter the Duat, the

Anubis was once the lord of the dead, protector and guide of souls. Until his position was usurped in the Middle Kingdom by Osiris, that is. No, this didn’t happen in the myths, it happened in the culture. What’s the difference? One is created by people, while the

“Within The Well lies an infinite landscape filled with forests and mountains. Many villages dot the terrain, yet the villagers of one village can never travel to the others. It is a stranger mystery still that each village can so easily access the Grove.”

The Grave-Keeper and I walked down long-forgotten halls made of a cold stone. I: What is this place? Where have you led me? Grave-Keeper: This is The Mausoleum. I: I’ve never heard of this place. Grave-Keeper: Few have. I: Why is that? Grave-Keeper: Here, one may find the Secret

Have you heard of the Seekers, fellow traveler? They venture out from a monastery that rests upon the Cosmic Shoreline seeking knowledge of the consciousnesses that share this universe. Once, one of these Seekers paid a visit to the Hill Folk. The Seeker: Hello. Celestia: Who are you? The Seeker:

I followed the Grave-Keeper across a line I did not know existed. Such a funny thing, the things that lie within our periphery — both inside and outside our vision. Before I knew it, we stood in a strange, stone place. This is where I found the Secret of Life.

“If you hold a piece of lightning wood in your right hand, special powers can be bestowed — for both healing and destruction. It takes a trained mind to recognize the difference between the two. Don’t EVER hold the wood in your left hand.”

In the witching hour, reality changes. Possibilities fan out like a beautiful flower. See, the mistake people make is assuming that hour is special, that things are solid in the else-time. Reality is — everything is a Rorschach.

I’m tired, I find myself thinking. It feels as though I’m half-passed dead. Turns out…I am. I have died. Not one of my selves. I. Have. Died. I: Is this the end? Silence fills my empty non-tomb. I hear footsteps, delicate and yet filled with power — a

“At the edge of the universe and at the center of your mind lies a bridge, a cosmic pathway hewn from stone and dark matter. Over the eons it has been called many names, but to those familiar with my work it is named: The Causeway. Very little is understood

Weird occurrences have become the norm in the not-so-quiet town of Harvest, Okla. The same town that endured the “llama incident” earlier this year has experienced yet another inexplicable phenomenon. Joni Evers, town resident and local mechanic, gives us her perspective on the event’s beginnings: “I first noticed something

Where I’m from we got a saying. We like to imagine we’re helpful folk with good hearts and givin’ souls. We do our best to light the way for those gone astray, but we got a saying, a [ONTOLOGY] we take seriously: We always lie to strangers.

I went up to the hills, beyond the constellations in the sky, to visit with the hill folk. I: I have a problem, hill folk, and I seek your guidance. Celestia: You’ve traveled a long way, Watcher. We’ll help if we can. I: I’ve lost my soul

"At the periphery of your attention is a crack. Most folk don’t even realize it’s there. What lies beyond? Other worlds? Nothing so…definite. There’s a saying about looking at the world through a keyhole. It’s something like that."