Issue #121
May 16, 2013

Singing Like a Hundred Dug-up Bones

As Knowe hikes fast over the plain and down the heather-thick slope to the farms spread out along the low lands, she almost laughs thinking: of course a ghost is the first person to want her singing.

Our Dead Selves Lie Like Footsteps in Our Wake

Her fingers dance in swoops and waves, cutting runes into the powder.  It's odd to see.  Hands usually draw with inks or chalk.  Powder and silver-tipped slippers are for simple gestures in duels, when there is no time to stoop and paint.  With my warped foot, dueling is an impossibility, but I have seen her practice countless times.

Audio Fiction Podcast:
Singing Like a Hundred Dug-up Bones
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Podcast: Download (Duration: 34:28 — 23.67MB)
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“Come back and sing with me!” the ghost calls at her back.
From the Archives:
Remembering Light
“Nothing in Driftwood is free. What do you want?”