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Satchels swung from the fenceposts snagged on the barbs by the passerby’s whipping past on steel steed with wind on their heels chasing a pint of mead. Rusted eyes would catch a glimpse of the bags against the sun, oiled eons past when the mechs tilled the land, bound to happen again once hatch the…

Alice-Bruderer-art

The canopy was a sandwich of eyes and dew-drenched leaves. We had all but to shift our gaze to see blinks that would start a rainfall. We inched closer to the clearing, their movements becoming more intense with each of our steps and their eyes starting to glow like the edges of these links. Alice…

Michal-Kus-art

We heard the crunch as we stepped up on the platform. Wood. Metal clamps. Held together with what looked like veins of a five-day-old onion thrown against the wall and dowsed with curry powder. The smell wasn’t too dissimilar. We had two choices, continue on and make the ridge before dark or settle in, grill…

Vincent-Jenkins-art

A tailwind caught the sails. We could do it – cut the reefs and jump the sandbars. We would have to hit the engine cycles perfectly though and make sure the cords held the turnip load. Fear would have overtaken us, but we had plenty of cord, cord made from the sinew of these links.…