IDK post short stories here or something
Not even bothering with rules. Maybe you'll post short stories here. Maybe I will. Who knows? Someone is going to, and hopefully people bother
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Maybe I will try to this time, idk.
The Aedroth Aka, who goes by so many names as to perhaps already suggest what I'm about to commit to memospore, is completely insane. His mind broke when his "perch from Eternity allowed the day" and we of all the Aurbis live on through its fragments, ensnared in the temporal writings and erasures of the acausal whim that he begat by saying "I AM". In the aetheric thunder of self-applause that followed (nay, rippled until convention, that is, amnesia), is it any wonder that the Time God would hate the same-twin on the other end of the aurbrilical cord, the Space God? That any Creation would become so utterly dangerous because of that singular fear of a singular word's addition: "I AM NOT"?
That all the Interplay is one flea of assertion on a wolf of naught, and that every experience (that is, everything) born from that primal wail would cascade unto the echo-need of hologram, each slice the same except for scale, and all the magic that would need to spring forth just to hold it together at living, divine cross-purpose, support struts made from the need to exist (axial, along its two-headed fighting rays, each refusing their origin point, that is, Tower), terrestons versus chronocules, and in the end (an end that ever refuses to hold) it all becomes a lobotomized (for what is not lobal if not the dracochoreography made flesh?), reptilian (coiled), and massive map-god (holding a compass, holding a timepiece), drooling (the water from which we dragged ourselves out of to say, mirror-like, autochthonic, automatic, "WE ARE, TOO") on his countless knees, dementia given dimension, dimension dementia...
[At this point all transcription becomes impossible, except by way of sheet music, an orchestration of which was attempted during the reign of [NUMINIT], who, along with everyone else in the symphony's radial madness, was vaporized by adjacentia. The requisite adachimelic holding-tendrils activated, preventing Imperial collapse. Imposthumously, the Amulet of Kings granted to the "Coccoon Council" that the spore-dream "et'Ada, Eight Aedra, Eat the Dreamer" be immediately stored in the one thousand and eight Cyrodilic weapons of rapture.]
here is something that will fuck you up
This one was in The Weird but I had to return it before I could get to it. Thank you.
On that note: This story is a good introduction to what Steve Rasnic Tem is all about.
Be warned, though, that this story is not with out uncomfortable visceral elements. I mean, look at the title.
Two stories by Karel Capek who lived in Czechoslovakia as fascism in Europe grew ever more powerful.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead