hope doesn’t have a cape. it doesn’t smile. it doesn’t even blink. hope cries, hope asks; hope is ever pleading. hope is not stoic; not manly, nor feminine. hope is […]
Short Story: Alexander Roman, “The Rat King”
Akaraat’s mother, starving in the Bormannic Sewers and hiding from urban hunters, ate what she could. One of the things she ate was a dark, verdant pebble; she consumed Vorastone. […]