Men's Second Style

No shepherds here. No wise men. No baby. No stable, either. No bright, bright star up in the sky. Just an angel. Read the rest of this entry »

Marie was late.

In and of itself, that was nothing new. Vraiment, she was always late. He ws convinced that this was not because she could not keep track of time (and anyway, she had ladies-in-waiting for that sort of thing). No, it was clearly a power play on her part. If she could keep you waiting, she was the one in control. And Marie liked being in control. In any case, if Marie expected you to wait…of course, you waited. Read the rest of this entry »

When he stepped off the train into the empty station, he felt not fear or apprehension but, rather, simple annoyance. He hesitated for a moment and turned to signal the porter, but the porter had vanished back into the car and the train was already pulling out of the station in chuffing clouds of steam. He was annoyed because it had been no small task to secure passage to New Babbage on such short notice (notwithstanding the urgent nature and secretly noble origins of the request), especially in a style to which he was most comfortably accustomed. He was annoyed because he could see clearly that, in spite of all extravagant promises to the contrary, no one was there to meet him. He was annoyed because he could see that the nearby hostelry was the Mechanix Arms—no doubt a fine enough establishment, but it was not the Brunel Hall Hotel, where he had rooms reserved for his immediate occupancy. Read the rest of this entry »

It was a hard life, living in the Wastelands. No one denied that. In fact, it was one of the hardest lives one could be born to. It was even harder living on the edge of the Great Fissure. No one quite believed that, unless they themselves had been born to it. Or exiled there. Read the rest of this entry »

He hated the term. He hated it, but no matter what he did, no matter who he tried to be, he could not escape it. He had been trapped by it from the very beginning, from his very incept date, for the phrase had been prominently featured in his homeostatic promotional material—in shining, swirling letters, in multiple languages, and repeated in subliminal whispers that could barely be heard, yet made their way deep into the mind and all but guaranteed a purchase, if not actual satisfaction. In fact, if he had come with an interactive instruction manual—which he had not—the phrase would no doubt have been emblazoned across every virtual page.

Basic pleasure model.
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[i]  Things had never been easy on the farm.  Raising crops was honest work, but hard, and it was all he had known his whole life.  But since the drought had begun things had been ever harder.  The soft greening wheat had turned brown and brittle; the dark brown earth had grown hard and grey.  Read the rest of this entry »

When Posy and I set out to explore the vast, unknown depths of Hollow Earth Underdark, our excitement was tempered by a thrill of apprehension.  What would we discover?  What secrets lay in wait for us?  What mysteries might transform us?  Would we need a travel buddy? Read the rest of this entry »