Saret stared up into the empty titian sky at the last sunset he’d ever see.  The great orb, Galst, the dying giant alighting the abandoned planet surface of deserted plains and empty horizons.  The only sound left for Saret, was himself.  His shallow breathing, quick and jagged, and the beating of his heart beneath his chest as it tried to keep the blood flowing through his body, not realizing it was simply spilling more out onto the endless sands.  Saret would die today. Continue reading

Topic 3: The Loneliest Killer Robot by Patrick Pugh

                Let me tell you a story.  It is about a man by the name of Howard Arkin.  A name you may be familiar with, I have little doubt.  But in case you are not familiar with it, indulge me a mere moment while I inform you as to his personage.  For this story tethers heavily on the very being of the man himself and how he came to be, and whom he came to be, and why in the end I had to kill him.  I promise this will all make sense when I am finished. Continue reading

Topic 2: The Hanging Gardens of Babylon by Patrick Pugh

Friday So-and-So

The First Job:

The Hanging Gardens of Babylon…Dammit.

friday so and so

                The cigarette was practically smoking itself at this point.  The ashen remnants still clung to the rest of its spent body promising to let go just as soon as Hollis Yard realized he was still alive and decided to move. Continue reading


            Tibbits was alone in the alley.  He had been there for the five hours since it started to rain, the rattling calming a nerve pinched just behind his left eye.  Above, a gutter emptied out onto his shoulder, sprinkling his face thickly, and soaking everything from his ruined fedora down to the garbage heap of donut boxes, food scraps, and whatever the Vietnamese restaurant’s bus boy had been throwing on the pile for the past few days.  He hadn’t moved an inch since he sat down, but his body continued the small rising heaves every few seconds as he took in a breath as if the air itself was a last cigarette, holding it in, tasting it, feeling it dance in his throat until letting it go into the cold wet fall. Continue reading

Freescape (A novel in the works)

His head pounded within the blackness. A tight constricting bind held the inside of his chest with little allowance to breathing. His heart raced, pulsing with a torrid pace that he could hear as loudly as if the thing in his chest was residing next to his ears. He wanted it to stop, to not be heard. His breathing he could almost control, but his heart, it was impossible to quiet something that would only grow louder with his every effort. Continue reading