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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…

15 million water spouts dripped against a noticeable stench rising out of the eroded interior of the last great Puchaungle warrior’s shell. Hollow, crumbles of metal flakes fought floating against the drops and every once in a while the sounds all came together like a song, a song sifting a course, asking for these links.…

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…