Verse & Prose Archive Updated For The Month of November

Our archive has been fully updated for the month of November (featuring new verse and prose). The archive will be similarly updated towards the end of December or directly thereafter (in early January). Additionally, we will be accepting verse, prose and music submissions throughout the month of December. If interested in submitting your work, see… Continue reading Verse & Prose Archive Updated For The Month of November

Pihoqahiak

A loquacious waltz droned phantasmically throughout the spacious foyer of Partridge Manor. Charles Jauther found the music simultaneously entrancing and unnerving. He paused beside the U-shaped double stairway which let up to the second floor landing and loosened his tie, eyes roaming aimlessly over peculiar marble statues and framed monochrome illustrations, and ornate synth-spun tapestries,… Continue reading Pihoqahiak

Ochre Sepulchre

Hraban Amsler came to the end of the forest path and continued apace. The sparse, charming wood thickening swiftly before him. Ochre and gold. Colors the harbingers of Fall. He knew the route well and yet felt as if he'd taken a wrong turning. The feeling came unbidden into his mind, though the man knew… Continue reading Ochre Sepulchre

An Inhabitant Of Carcosa (1886)

For there be divers sorts of death -- some wherein the body remaineth; and in some it vanisheth quite away with the spirit. This commonly occurreth only in solitude (such is God's will) and, none seeing the end, we say the man is lost, or gone on a long journey -- which indeed he hath;… Continue reading An Inhabitant Of Carcosa (1886)

The Machine of Wester Moorley (§.01)

§.01 The barton of Nilreb sat upon a dry, razored plain, encircled by high and jagged mountains of reddish-beige stone that looked from afar like the fangs of some ancient and gargantuan beast. Only one road let in from the outer world to that wasted space and upon it, a lone man strode, a thin… Continue reading The Machine of Wester Moorley (§.01)

Hauptsturmführer Fillenius (1944)

By Dan Klefstad The Russians knew they had no chance; we surrounded them. They also knew we’d have no mercy, but they surrendered anyway. They gave up their weapons and helmets, hoping for cigarettes which we no longer had. Were they buying time? Somewhere across the drifting snow, their swine-kin prepared another attack, but we didn’t… Continue reading Hauptsturmführer Fillenius (1944)