B. Morris Allen's Blog, page 8
June 9, 2019
Beginnings 070 – Dragons I Have Slain
I collect dragon tears. It isn’t difficult; they’re insidious and subtle, and they seep through my armor and into my skin like ink, leaving me stained, soiled, sorrowful — a human map of misery. The Dragon Atlas, I call it — marked with the precise locations of honor and shame.
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“Dragons I Have Slain”
Metaphorosis
Published 02-Sep-2016
About the story: When you have to kill dragons but you don’t want to.
Inspired by a Jon Lord song.
June 8, 2019
Beginnings 069 – Crying in the Salt House
The Salt House is built on tears, not of them. That is only a little joke the Bracque like to play. They tell to visitors that the blocks of pure, clear salt are the crystallized tears of children, and the rougher, grayer stones are the tears of the parents who lost them.
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“Crying in the Salt House”
Cirsova
Published 22-Nov-2018
About the story: A fortune built on salt, a future built on courage.
An SFF homage to Richard Llewellyn.
June 7, 2019
Beginnings 068 – Revenge of the Snakefish
Paul Xanthus looked at the crumpled, lightly steaming wreckage of his scoutship and frowned. “Born for trouble,” he declared. “The only habitable planet in a cluster full of rocks, and I manage to crash. At least I chose a nice spot for it.”
The yellow sun sent reflections twinkling off rippled water as he turned to survey the nearby lake. The water was clear, blue, and cool-looking. Little waves lapped on the pebbled shore, signs that something big and loud had recently passed close overhea...
June 6, 2019
Beginnings 067 – Nightmantle
Pro: unmatched tool for dark-cloaking and umbral manipulation
Con: availability issues.
Bottom line: The greatest darkside tool since night itself
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“Nightmantle”
About the story:
June 5, 2019
Beginnings 066 – Crash Boom Bang
Crash. Boom. Bang.
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The ship crashed and exploded. Afterwards, the base collapsed.
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“Crash Boom Bang”
BMorrisAllen.com
Published 24-Feb-2013
About the story: The same story at several different lengths, but different each time.
June 4, 2019
Beginnings 065 – Seven Shells
Darkness spread over the town of Eaglesmith, rippling over its sandy street in the long, tall form of a giant, stretching ten feet from wide brimmed hat to the toes of the Marshal’s high boots. It was noon. High noon. A time when vagrants and varmints and no’counts of all stripes lay away in barns and spring houses. Hiding from the law.
He stepped off the boardwalk into the street. His shadow stepped with him, flowing silently before to give warning: ‘Here comes Marshal Jared Jones with his...
June 3, 2019
Beginnings 064 – Feral Gnomes
“They’ve been here. I can smell them.” The gnome catcher wrinkled her formidable nose, nostrils expanding like bat wings. “In fact,…”
I sniffed tentatively. Paperwhites, a hint of apple blossom, the chemical reek of geranium. No gnomes.
“What do they smell like?” I asked with a smile. For all their reputation, goblins look more droll than dreadful, and this gnarled creature doubly so.
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“Feral Gnomes”
About the story: What to do when a spray of feral gnomes invades your garden?
June 2, 2019
Beginnings 063 – Stamp of Approval
“And so, children, that’s how I saved the kingdom. Without me, all would have been lost, and you,” the old man’s eyes twinkled, “would now be slaves of the troll king. Or maybe,” his eyes widened, “his dinner!” At the last word, his thin arms arched out over the children at his feet, gnarled hands spread into crooked, knobbly claws that formed writhing shadows on grass and children alike.
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“Stamp of Approval”
About the story: No one ever writes about the administrative heroes of fantasy.
June 1, 2019
Beginnings 062 – When Dooryards First in the Lilac Bloomed
The thrush led me astray. He with his puffed-out speckled chest and spindly legs, his impudent beak gated open and closed in song. He that stole my love, and left me desolate, cold, and lonely in the night; that secret, eremitic bird, with his liquid, taunting morning song. From high in the cedars, he sang my love away, and me awake.
In the week after the interment, he sang to me his joy of the spring, his pride in courtship, his love of life. It came to me as mockery, as cruel jest, delight...
May 31, 2019
Beginnings 061 – Some Sun and Delilah
“Pluck it out!”
The voice came from his right. He felt vaguely distant, dead to sensation. “What?” he managed.
“If it bothers you.” A strong hand swooped in, a tanned arm. “The eyes always get to me. They watch. Like you.” The hand selected something from the table, vanished. There was a slight pop, and a slurping sound.
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“Consideration”
About the story: A unique punishment for malefactors.
