For twenty seven years I lived a strange and unimaginable life, and one morning I woke up divorced from life. I was awake.

I wish I could go back to sleep

Which is the greater magic; that which can sink a castle into the earth or that which can make the world's greatest sandwhich?

The great paradoxes of the Universe is that everything follows almost exactly the same course, yet in doing so, is somehow still unique and with importance and value.

Who Took Cara Evanston?

Who took Cara Evanston?

Most of the other old men I talk to about life discuss defining days that separated their lives into a before and after. My life does not have any such days, no single event changed the way I lived my life. This life of mine is one unbroken field, different crops have been planted and reaped, but the ground has remained the same. There is one day though that scars that field like a stump or stone that cannot be plowed under. I have spent many seasons pondering that day, but have never found a comfortable place for it.

The confessions of an unlucky A.I.

The Diary of young girl who finds herself trapped in purgatory, searching salvation and trying to make sense of that which is deliberatly insane. (A prelude to the entry found in my Chasers submission.)

Ideally the creatures described within this (ongoing) sub will be detailed in turn as their own seperate submissions eventally painting a complete picture of purgatoy.