Pilgrimage

Sage pushed up her visor and glared into the distance. Through the haze and the light, she could just make out the temple nestled into the gulch at the end of the valley. She registered no sign of life between here and her destination.

After such a long journey, she was too exhausted, both mentally and physically, to truly take in her surroundings or reflect on the implications of her pilgrimage nearing its end.

Sage had traveled one hundred light years to get to this planet. Until this moment, she had not given any thought to what would come next.

Platero And I: The Tour

Do not judge me with your eyes, Platero. I had the best intentions helping the lost walkers on their way.

I know there is a shorter route, but that couple seemed sympathetic and I had the impression that their restaurant was still filled up.

Thanks to the detour I made them take, they get a nice view over the valley, past the cherry trees - currently in full bloom - and can see the foal grazing in the meadow since yesterday.

Admit it, Platero. They will enjoy it more than just turning right at the end of the road to get there.

From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys

Hervé (°1968 – Ronse, Belgium) started writing short stories whilst recovering from a sports injury and he hasn’t stopped since. Generally he writes them hatless and barefooted.

Doomed To Repeat

Alexander’s Eastern campaign had gone well until now. But Bactria was different. He sat astride his beloved horse and studied the valley below. These lands were ruled by tribes and the fighters were unpredictable, as was the weather. Would he be able to rule this land once he had subdued it?

General Gromov looked back across the Afghanistan border and sighed. The last of his Russian troops were safely out. Nine years and thousands of Soviet deaths later, there was no victory.

American General Miller looked down from his Blackhawk and mused: what was that saying about history repeating itself?

From Guest Contributor Janice Siderius

The Clock Tower

The clock tower, situated in the center of the town square, afforded views of the entire valley. No shadow could hide from its rapacious stare.

Townspeople went about their business quietly, all eyes on the ground, hoping to avoid unwanted attention.

Rebecca and Victor met in the churchyard green. They'd yearned for each other since youth, but had never managed to share even kiss. Now might be that moment.

Time stopped. The entire town froze.

When the clock resumed, Rebecca and Victor, despite being certifiably sober, returned to their homes after once again awakening from a stupor under mysterious circumstance.

Unrequited

Soft and warm, her diamond-drill eyes cut through troubles to allow her molten laughter to fill his heart.

She moved like a leopard and, when her thighs brushed innocently, nerve endings tingled with an indescribable charge.

Wanting her more than breath, his eyes often sought the smooth valley beneath her throat, desire locking his tongue until...too late, leaving him to pounce at the desiccated dust eddies in her wake.

Fleeting shards of opportunity teased like mirages, requiring more energy and know-how than his aging, wounded, soul possessed.

She’d offered him a photo once. He’d declined. 2D simply wasn’t enough.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

The Flower

From the observation tower Alice could finally see the true scale of The Flower of Vermaltarok III. A reptiloid rudely pushed in front of her to set up some trinoculars.

The local guide wiped sweat from her brow. "Attention! Should the alarm sound, immediately use the lift down to the bunker and remain there until the all-clear is given."

Alice found another viewing spot, mesmerized by the colors, ... the SIZE.

Lights flashed, and the doors to the lift opened. But the siren was drowned out by the thunderous buzzing that echoed across the valley and shook the floor and walls.

From Guest Contributor Ross Clement