Love in the Air: A February Tale. By Zin

Published by Zin Shandi on February 18, 2025

Greetings and salutations!

Oh no, not this again! February, can’t you let me sleep in peace? Tella pleaded, tossing and turning. February lingered in the dim light, a ghostly presence drawing ever closer, pressing her to unveil the secrets of her heart. “Do you love me? Because my admiration for you knows no bounds.”

“Shush, February! Don’t muddle our connection with human emotions. You are perfect just as you are in my mind. You never hurt me; you love me in my quiet, awkward ways,” Tella rebuffed. “Now, please, go get busy. I’d like to catch some Z’s.”

But February chortled softly, “You know my duties begin the moment you drift off. My thoughts of you keep me awake; I only want your happiness and protection. But…”

“But what?” Tella snapped, her irritation flaring.

A Dickens at the End of the World Scene. By Sandra

Published by Sandra Lloyd Lewis on February 17, 2025

[this is a potential scene to

-introduce some worlding

– show relationship between H and M]

Q: what do you think it shows of their relationship?

Is the style of language consistent with the time? (Victorian style).

Is it pacy/interesting enough as a small scene in its own right?

She could see the whip rising and falling in a horrified slow motion as the Beater hit the beggar again and again. The beggar, clad in ripped clothing, cowered away, his underfed form, twiglike next to the Beater’s meaty legs. The crowd around them was a mix of fascination and horror, and Henery unconsciously moved forward, to better see what was happening, but he felt Mary stumble against him and he saw her face was ashy with shock.

‘Mary? Mary?’ he held her under her arm, but she whispered, ‘I am fine Henery, it is nothing really.’ She made an effort to walk more firmly.

The Sirens go to Church Door Cove Sequence. By Jason

Published by Jason Davies-Redgrave on February 17, 2025

The Sirens go to Church Door Cove Sequence. PART 1

***

“They broke the rules of the Hunt!” Jynn’s voice rang out from the centre of the Circle. “They violated the sacred oath. The oath we all took in the name of the Mothers, to do no harm to a member of another Family. When I made my mark on the human and claimed him as my prize that should have been the end of it. Yet in that moment The Many did not stop. They were moving to attack us.

Were Peck’s actions reckless? Undoubtedly.

Did she brake that oath? Yes.

No-one, least of all my apprentice, would deny that. But she acted instinctively and only to protect her fellows. Only to ensure the sanctity of the Hunt and only after The Many refused to yield!

Her actions need to be judged, and by the Mothers The Collectoris will judge them, but she acted with an honour and a courage that seems to be sorely lacking in the Circle at this moment.”

Jynn, stood proudly at the crystalline centre of the Circle and placed her hand on Peck’s shoulder. She looked at her apprentice, the youngster’s face coloured by doubt and uncertainty. You are a foolish girl. But you see this universe in a way that I don’t, in a way I cannot even pretend to understand, Jynn smiled at Peck. I may be older and wiser but I have to admit that I am set in my ways. I see something bright and terrifying in you, Peck, something I think we will all need in the future. Peck tried to smile back at Jynn.

“She will be judged here, in The Circle. I will not have squirreled away to your school. Her crimes must be answered,” S’Uba’s voice filled the chamber like a thunder cloud.

“What of the crimes committed by The Many?” The Herald stepped forward. “Will you judge them too? Or is that for another day?”

Jynn looked up at The Herald. His edges pulsed with a delicate silvery lace, a strange mix of deference and defiance. Be careful Herald, Jynn thought as she turned to look at S’Uba. You’re playing a dangerous game. If you are right about all this then she is a coiled viper, and she is sitting at the top of a pretty big nest!

Captain Camden’s Last Day by Martyn

Published by Martyn Winters on February 16, 2025

Part 1: Captain Camden and the General

Captain Camden’s Last Day

Part 1: Captain Camden and the General

Even more than a decade after leaving the frigid caves of Antarctica for the humid streets of Lundeinjon, Camden Ironbell, Captain in Her Majesty’s Gnome Guards, still feels the chill of early mornings deep in his bones. It is as if he were permanently afflicted by a conjuration cast by one of the long extinct wizard goblins of the southern continent. This is especially the case on dark, forbidding mornings replete with a heavy mist clinging to the quays and wharves of old Lundeinjon town.

“Cold feet are the bane of the working soldier, sergeant,” he observes to Sergeant Major Flintbrander, as they march along the quayside to the taxi-punt which takes them to the Gnome barracks near the northern city wall. The sun has yet to rise and the residents of the leafy suburb through which they march are mostly once again ensconced in their warm beds, as freshly laid fires warm the hearths of the rickety, stilted houses lining the canals that were once bustling roads.

Dickens at the end of the world by Sandra

Published by Sandra Lloyd Lewis on January 29, 2025

Henery Foble shifted in his seat, the thin padding the railway company deemed suitable for passengers, not ample enough for comfort for his thin frame. His coat pulled tightly at his arms and it he shuffled around, realising he had sat on his coattails.

‘Henery,’ Mary chided, ‘Please. You haven’t stopped twitching since we boarded.’ She smiled at him with wifely fondness and smoothed her gloves.

Henery laughed self-consciously, ‘You are right, my dear. I think I am excited to see it. Not everyone makes the trip to Pit Town after all.’ He glanced out of the carriage as it clattered past streets that seemed to shrink in size and grandeur the further out of Hope Town they travelled.

The Tunnel

Published by Jason Davies-Redgrave on January 27, 2025

Alaw burped, They’ve changed brands again, she thought. Cheapskates, how hard is it to stick to the good barbeque sauce? Not like they don’t make enough bloody profit here; this place is always full. There’re enough sad sacks in this town to keep this dump going till the judgement day. She was happy enough though, nestled in her favourite spot next to the gurgling, dust covered radiator. Sat on a comfy but worn blue and yellow striped chair, under a couple of faded music hall posters. She shuffled around in the pockets of her patched and oversized greatcoat and pulled out a very old handkerchief.

This pub also afforded her a certain level of anonymity, amongst the waifs and strays Alaw blended in here despite her singular appearance, which had proved very useful in her line of work. She blew her nose loudly, and flashed a saccharine smile at the, not hiding her disgust at all while trying to enjoy a large glass of cheap white and having a loud but painfully private conversation on speaker phone, young woman sat just across from Alaw.

The arrest and detention of Lee Wung To and the introduction of Tony Boneyface by Martyn

Published by Martyn Winters on January 27, 2025

While Lightweasel marvels at Constable Biter’s shadow walking facility, Bill Bordersack is watching Biter overpower Lee Wung To by the simple expedient of picking him up and bouncing him off the wall of the adjacent Tropical Laundry and Snack bar. Realising he is probably the next target for Biter’s enthusiastic style of arrest, he hides the sack containing the two pistols under the walkway leading to Trade Street, and darts down a side alley, between a gnome lingerie shop, and pub called “The Leering Goblin”, observing their proximity is probably not a coincidence.

On the third bounce, the door to the establishment opens, and a tall figure, seemingly wearing a mask of a human skull, appears. “Excuse me, constable. Would mind awfully not doing that? It upsets the customers.”

Bosom of the Family by Sandra

Published by Sandra Lloyd Lewis on January 7, 2025

-Where am I? Why is it dark?

-Wait, I will switch on the lights. There. Better?

-Yes, thank you. Mum. You’re my mummy, aren’t you?

(pause)

-Yes. I am your mummy.

-Where are we?

-Where we always are, my sweet. Inside.

-Inside? Inside what?

– Don’t worry about that now. Look at the controls.

-Pretty lights.

-Yes, very pretty. Do you see any patterns?

(Pause)

-Yes, there is a good pattern. I like it.

-Do you see any bad patterns?

(pause)

-Yes! There is one here. I do not like this pattern.

– That’s ok. Well done, my sweet, for seeing it. You can get rid of the bad pattern if you like.

– Get rid of it?

– Yes. You can move the controls, and it will turn those lights into pretty ones.

(clicking sounds)

-Like that?

-Yes. Just like that.

-Am I clever?

-You are so clever. Well done, my sweet.

– Where are we?

– We are doing an important job.

-What job?

– You are good, aren’t you?

-Yes. I am a goody. What is my name?

-We don’t like the baddies, do we?

-No. We do not like the baddies. They are naughty.

-And what happens to the naughty ones?

-Naughty ones are PUNISHED

-That’s right, my sweet. And you are a goody.

-I like being a goody.

-That’s right. And you are so good. You turned those lights to good, pretty lights.

-I did.

(pause)

-What is my name? You are ‘mum’. Who am I?

-Time for sleep now, my sweet. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow.

Dyson Deux Digits – an Inspector Ironbell Chapter. By Martyn

Published by Martyn Winters on January 7, 2025

“If yer want my opinion,” says Bill Bordersack. He looks up at Alana, with his runtish face twisted into an expression of interest coloured by just enough salacious intent to make most women uncomfortable.

Alana isn’t most women, though.

She likes to think of herself as a professional, and as such, inured to the close attentions of the heterogametic forty-nine per cent of the population, gnomes included, although not the Fae. The Fae are different, of course. For a start, no-one is sure if they have chromosomes at all, and there are certainly no male fae, unless they are kept well out of sight. She ponders on this for a moment and decides society would be altogether better if men were not seen and not heard either. Except for opening jars, carrying heavy stuff, and a few other things they are ideally equipped to undertake, but only when strictly necessary. Alana is, however, on a mission, and Bill is not going to like it, which is something of a shame, because she and Bill have a history, and some might even mistake it for friendship. It’s more of a tolerant jousting for position, an appreciation of each other’s professional attributes, and quite occasionally, something more meaningful.

Otelia’s awakening

Published by Zin Shandi on January 7, 2025

On one of winter Sundays, as dusk settled in, Otelia found herself pulling over on a quiet stretch of road, the kind where the world seemed to fade away. She took a moment to gaze at the drab winter sky, relieved to be alone, escaping the hurried bustle of passing cars and pedestrians. She watched as the trees swayed playfully in the chilly breeze, their branches dancing to a melody only the winter wind could compose. Then, her eyes were drawn to her favourite cloud dull yet familiar, winking at her like a cheeky friend. Embarrassment washed over her, prompting Otelia to glance in her car’s mirror, seeking a momentary refuge until the audacious cloud drifted from view.

To Otelia, these clouds felt like old companions, sharing her tales of discontent with the human race. For a heartbeat, she concentrated on the mirror, hiding her daily battles behind its reflective shield. She had sworn not to burden the sky with her struggles. Yet, in that reflective surface, she found an honest observer waiting for her to confront the day’s truths. Peering into the mirror’s depths, she noticed her own expressive eyes—large yet not almond-shaped, with pupils that sparkled like starlight. Long lashes, reminiscent of the graceful sword of Queen Zenobia, shielded her gaze, adding a hint of majesty.

Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Posts

Part 1: Captain Camden and the General