B. Morris Allen's Blog, page 13
April 25, 2019
Beginnings 025 – The Speed of Winter
The average speed of winter is 5 meters per second in the steppe and in the desert, but only 2 meters per second in the valleys. When I first read those words as a girl, I did not understand what they meant. I was in the high plains of my life, had I but known it, and winter was approaching at great speed. Now I am old and grey, and winter drags on interminably as I wander these pale, silent valleys.
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“The Speed of Winter”
Speed of Winter
Published 08-May-2012
About the story: I read a not...
April 24, 2019
Beginnings 024 – One Fine Day in Asgard
“Just blow the thing already!” The speaker, a muscular young man in a bright blue tunic with a broad yellow belt, tossed a large hammer impatiently from hand to hand.
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“One Fine Day in Asgard”
Metaphorosis: a collection of stories
Published 22-Jun-2013
About the story: What happens before Ragnarok comes around.
April 23, 2019
Beginnings 023 – Curiosity and the Zombie Cat
She opened her eyes, groggy and disoriented. She blinked several times to no effect. She climbed unsteadily to her feet, falling several times as she explored the small space. It was, she determined by bumping her tender head into hard walls, a contained area, about one cat length by two. At one end was a small step or box. There was nothing else, and she lay down again to sleep.
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“Curiosity and the Zombie Cat”
About the story: Why Schroedinger should never have been allowed near animals.
April 22, 2019
Beginnings 022 – The Maze of Luned
In the air above a world called Xwre, an eagle named Ethon circles vigilantly. She is vigilant because she has been slain once, and she has no wish to experience that fate again. She circles because she is waiting, as she has waited for aeons.
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“The Maze of Luned”
About the story: The Chancery is a portal to a random place.
April 21, 2019
Beginnings 021 – Shear Terror
The old man sitting at the bar smiled cynically at the young barbarian by his side.
“Don’t smile cynically at me,” complained Glurg.
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“Shear Terror”
About the story: Epic fantasy can be funny!
April 20, 2019
Beginnings 020 – Grand Central
As Walter came into the station he saw the usual groups of young people, sitting on the floor waiting for the three AM and four AM trains. They would wait until about ten before going to sleep on their jackets or sleeping bags. They knew from experience that the police never came around after ten.
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“Grand Central”
About the story: A man realizing his goals in life.
April 19, 2019
Beginnings 019 – Victim of Changes
No matter how angry they were, his pursuers would need hours to dig away the fallen stone behind him. How fortunate, he thought sardonically, that the key support for the passage’s ceiling had turned out to be this support beam at the end. He tossed the thin pole aside with disgust.
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“Victim of Changes”
About the story: When you’ve been running for too long, it’s easy to forget why and what from.
April 18, 2019
Beginnings 018 – Silver Lining
Wolf’s bane. It’s properly arnica montana, but my grandfather insisted on the more colorful term; something to do with his service in the Long War way back when. I have my doubts about how pivotal this stuff was, since it’s also known as ‘leopard’s bane’, and we don’t get a lot of were-leopards in Europe. I also have trouble seeing how it worked. Did our side smear mashed up flowers all over their foes and then ask “Feel that mild skin irritation? Want to negotiate now?” Maybe that’s why the...
April 17, 2019
Beginnings 017 – The Digital Revival
“Remind me again what we’re doing here,” muttered Carl as his partner smashed a cudgel through a small window in a thick steel door. In the distant guardhouse, lights began to flash.
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“The Digital Revival”
Anti-SF
Published 01-Apr-2013
About the story: Two thugs break into Area 52.
April 16, 2019
Beginnings 016 – Spring and the Arachnodactylist
Long, slender fingers enclosed the book, captured it in a cradle of skin and bone. The book, a paperback space opera in the grand style of ‘Doc’ Smith, fluttered occasionally in a half-hearted way, but made no real effort to get free. Now being read for the third time, it looked brand new, unmarked, the tawdry cover perfect. The fingers, smudged with ink and occasionally cramped from lack of movement, left black smears along the outer edge of each page, but the rest they treated with elabora...
