The ocean wind clutches at my upturned collar as I write this on the deck of the ferry, bearing up at the rising silhouette of the approaching island through the frosted glass of the grey morning. The little outcropping looks to all the world like it’s considering succumbing to the …
I repeat to you, gentlemen, that your inquisition is fruitless. Detain me here forever if you will; confine or execute me if you must have a victim to propitiate the illusion you call justice; but I can say no more than I have said already. Everything that I …
I awoke lying face down in cool, black sand. The air smelled strongly of ocean, yet when I sat up and wiped the dirt from my face, there was no shoreline in sight. Instead, what I saw was an endless horizon of black desert. Every direction was the same; a …
It was the design of Angelo Ricci and Joe Czanek and Manuel Silva to call on the Terrible Old Man. This old man dwells all alone in a very ancient house on Water Street near the sea, and is reputed to be both exceedingly rich and exceedingly feeble; which forms …
