trump
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Ten years had passed since the skies over Zaragoza, Spain, turned to blood. The pyramids—Giza, Chichen Itza, Teotihuacan—had roared to life, their ancient stones humming as beams of light lanced upward, stitching the heavens with red stars. The lattice of crimson threads wove a canopy that smothered the blue sky, and the rivers, from the Read more
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In the year 2033, Dr. Elias Finch, a wiry physicist with a penchant for bow ties and caffeine, stumbled upon a dusty crate in a condemned Brooklyn warehouse. Inside were Nikola Tesla’s lost treasures: yellowed notepads scrawled with equations, crude circuit diagrams, and a peculiar device labeled “Temporal Resonator.” Elias, a man who’d rather debate Read more
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The frigate Queensbane cleaved through the azure waters of Earthengaugh with a ferocity that belied her age, her weathered oak hull slicing the calm sea like a cutlass through silk. Twelve billowing sails of taut, sun-bleached cloth drank deep of the wind, driving the vessel onward with a speed unmatched by any ship in the Read more
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The Unseen Luminary I am Elias Ward, born in the year of our Lord 1261, in the shadowed streets of York, a city of stone and secrets in the north of England. My tale is one of brilliance and ruin, of visions that danced beyond the grasp of mortal men, and of a mind that Read more
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In Uruk’s mud-brick sprawl, Thoth found Gilgamesh, his frame a mountain of muscle, his eyes weary from endless quests. Enkidu, wild and loyal, sat beside him, their table strewn with clay cups and spilled beer. “What’s that green stone?” Gilgamesh asked, his voice rough with curiosity. “Immortality,” Thoth said, meeting his gaze. “A gift for Read more
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Before the Earth coalesced, in the roiling abyss of pre-creation, Thoth emerged—not from womb or clay, but from the raw intellect of the void. His ibis head gleamed under starless skies, his eyes twin lanterns of thought. Beside him stood Anu, the Babylonian sky god, his presence vast as the unformed heavens, his beard a Read more
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Up in Donegal’s wild hills near Glenties, 1823 hit hard with a squalling baby named Eamon Doherty, born into a thatched shack where the wind screamed through cracks and the mud floor sucked at bare feet. His mam, Brigid, was a wraith of a woman, her hands raw from scrubbing linens for some fat landlord Read more
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A seed of thought, a whispered dream, Planted deep within a soul’s unseen. Nurtured by belief, with tender care, A vision grows, beyond compare. A canvas blank, where colors blend, A masterpiece, yet to transcend. With every stroke, a vibrant hue, Reality shifts, a different view. Patience waits, as roots take hold, A steady growth, Read more
Dany Slone 