The Crossroad

Let me tell you about the crossroad.

The Bridleway is only a track, but it leads into a wagon trail and a cobbled street which leads to the city. It’s the way the riders take when they raid the hamlets in the hinterlands, hamlets like mine, for men, maidens or dues. Continue reading


Grey and silver were the colours of their city – grey concrete, silver steel, planes of glass reflecting the washed-out shade of the sky. Corners veiled in the stark black of midday shadows and a few red and blue cars were the only contrasts. Even the few trees that carved out their existence at street corners and in back yards had long lost their vibrant green under the relentless glare. Continue reading

No Exit

Chuck Wendig had a dream with a recurring phrase: There is no exit.

A situation with no escape can only be a nightmare. Can’t it?

“Della and Jo have pledged their love for each other, they have sealed their vows and received their rings. Before this gathering, they have expressed their complete and pure dedication to one another, and by the authority vested in me, I now pronounce you -” Continue reading

The other End

She always thought that it looked more like a bridge than a pier. Of course it ended nowhere, the rickety walkway simply petered out in the endless grey of the rolling sea, easily flooded when the tides were high. A bridge needed a beginning and an end. Or at least two ends. Continue reading