TDavino's profile

Solis of Aquilonia had been warned since childhood that the barrows were to be avoided. The suggestion that the dead might walk had infested his imagination, and he'd had no reason to doubt the impermanent rest of the buried. There were practical reasons to stay away, as well... the places of the dead had been known to attract thieves, and predators, and it was not until he'd had to participate in a burial himself that Solis had come within a stone's throw of the graves. Three days later, he'...

I'd been hitching for ten or fifteen years, since high school. There’d been several nervous rides, including a priest in his robes and a Vietnamese Vietnam War vet, but I'd never felt threatened enough that I'd had to defend myself. Maybe I'd been lucky, or maybe I'd been a good judge of character, but thumbing had always worked out for me. Not so much, in Seattle. I spent more time walking, on more narrow shoulders, than anywhere else. Not tonight, though. I’d staggered about 6 blocks and ha...

1. One day Prince Ian woke early. He knew it was early, because mommy was still asleep. 2. Ian looked out the window and saw the blue sky. He decided it looked like a fine day to get dressed, all by himself. 3. While lacing his shoes, Ian heard Mommy laugh. Smiling, Ian looked up. 4. "Let me help you," Mommy said. Ian shook his head. "I can do it, Mommy." 5. "Did you see the sky?" Mommy asked. "This looks like a nice day to go get out of the castle and go for a walk." 6. "Do you think we'll f...

Hers is a baring, wirebrush melody. Stark clap of pennies up a vacuum, taut strike of loose chains over Wolf Creek, a flayed recoil. She sets a cup of my scars reopened to balance on forehead, turning. Slight twitch, slow-etched streak, then stain blended then accepted by my undiscerning eyes. Dried paint by her nails scraped away. no damage done no damage done no damage done no damage In a circular white, studied expanse (waking distinction long crossed) I bear the cape of her embered incent...

I met Vermont with Fall in her eyes. She'd sit behind glass and watch the leaves, delighted by their twist, and lazy drift by the way the wind would be betrayed. She'd collect them to her breast like spiked kerchief-- reds and golds, brighter than wonder. By day's end they'd have curled upon themselves, leathern, and mottled. By day's end she knew: they were brilliant only on the side toward the sun.