Tag: allegory
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The Censure Ship – Short Story
Oceanus spread out across the horizon, out beyond the Suffering Bay, as far as Princess Madison could see from this high on the gate’s main tower. The Gods must be happy this day if they blessed her consort with such calm and passive weather. “All immigrant ships should be destroyed.” Bellowed Decius, his haughty royal…
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Quulon: Path to Divine Deception – Short Story
“You’re not going to get it. The plague only affects people who believe in It.” said mother, her bangs tickled my face, hanging from the bonnet. She was trying to convince me that the farmers deserved to die, in their fields, in their homes, since believing in the plague was tantamount to blasphemy. “But mother,”…
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The Golden Hoard – Short Story
“You’ll end up dead like your daddy.” That’s what grandpa said about the living room. He could have chosen nicer words at least. Nathan’s grandpa wasn’t nice though but he had a lot of cool stuff or “junk” as his mom called it, all throughout the house. The clutter in the living room was at…
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Anxiety, Depression, and the Book of Lies – Short Story
“I’ve had enough!” Kyln dropped onto a fallen branch and crushed it under his weight. “We’ll be lost in this forest for the rest of our days, doomed to search for trinkets we’ll never find.” “Whose idea was it to venture into the Black Valley to begin with!? You promised we’d be swimming in gold…
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Commander-in-Thief – Short Story
“Never before has there been a sitting leader who openly commits crimes against his own people. He will never accept anything other than complete class domination.” The hall, sparsely lit by torches, was as dark as a maze, almost as ominous and troubling as the upheaval occurring behind the closed doors. Steinar had that look…
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The Man at the End of the Table – Short Story
Often, I would daydream to forget about all the bad things that were happening. Always hungry, always in pain I couldn’t look at the others at the table because it would remind me of my own stomach pangs. Their faces were just as twisted as mine, wrought with personal anguish and hunger. Was there ever…
Karl Kirkpatrick 