In Ainadamar, Fiction on May 19, 2016 at 3:25 pm
This is the preface to my novel, “Ainadamar, or The Fountain of Tears: The First Flight of the Madrugada.” It details the adventures of a spaceship called the Madrugada, crewed by a Bulgarian space vampire, a lady barbarian, a 17th century French mountebank, a shape-shifting chef, a giant kitty, an empath, and the early 20th century Spanish Republican poet and martyr, Federico Garcia Lorca. I’ll publish a new chapter each week.
Pablo de las Casas kneeled on the damp ground. He reached out and touched it with an open palm, then looked up to the Ayn al-Dam, the “fountain of tears.” The invaders had coarsened its name, like they had coarsened so many things, mispronouncing it Ainadamar. Its glassy music rang faintly in the near darkness. It too shall fail eventually, he thought.
In Fiction on May 18, 2016 at 3:05 am
Rain hissed across the cobbles in one of the few alleys blighted and benighted enough not to have been asphalted over. Beneath a hooded light the fine drops formed a cone above a featureless steel door.
The door flew open with a bang and a bald giant turned on his heel and pitched his burden into the alley, where it skidded across the cobbles carving a wave out of the pool of rainwater.
“I told you,” the giant yelled at the sodden creature, “you keep your hands outta people’s pockets! You come back here again, I’ll shut your head in the door.”
He slammed the door just as the creature leapt to its feet, a girl, 96 pounds soaking wet, which she certainly was. She punctuated the air with a series of profanities that verged on the ultrasonic.
The door opened again.
“You gonna get home OK?” the giant asked.
“Fuck you, Shark!”
She pitched a loose cobble against the quickly re-closed door.
In Dewi Sant, St. David's Day on April 6, 2016 at 6:34 pm
(Did I seriously never publish this? I am one addlepated ninny.)