Last Run

Thread 3, Part 1:

Laurel

Last Run

(there) - Thousands of years ago

Running through the darkness, with three or four of Axspaire's subjects in pursuit, Laurel cursed when she realized that she had turned up a canyon. She had hoped to stick to a ridge line. She wanted to get to higher ground as quickly as possible. She had to get to the forests. But now, she heard the trickling sound of water off to her left as she made her way, her mouth open and gasping for air, her legs burning. She noticed that the terrain to her right had steepened and in the fine light of the moon she caught glimpses of steeps walls of stone not far away.

She could not turn around now though. She knew that Axspaire's subjects were not far behind.

Set Sari

Thread 2, Part 1:

Generator

Set Sari (an ancient folk song)

(there)

Set Sari

Set Sari through the summer and into the fall.

Sari is not moving; she lingers in the wall.

Set Sari through the winter and into the Spring.

Her mouth's filled with stone; you will not hear her scream.

Watch the sun move up overhead, and then again back down

Colors ripen, tease and play then darken black and brown

The moon waxes wide and fills. Then sated, once again wanes thin.

Pouring light upon the market square, she'll never leave again.

Listen to the pendulum blade swing inside the town's clock.

Tapping feet clap cobblestones that echo down the block.

Melodies of voices swell like tides washing to the walls.

And there, sealed in, is Sari unhearing of their calls.

Tap the wall, Love, here, where the moss grows green.

Touch the ashlar tenderly where Sari stands unseen.

For now stone hands hold limbs and hips and press upon her chest.

And now stone hands will disallow Love's whispered breath's caress.

Love, twist your crank, now, uselessly 'til broken is the bore.

Still locked inside the masonry her heart beats forevermore.

Set Sari through the Summer and into the Fall.

Dreaming of antiquities; she lingers in the wall.

Set Sari through the Winter and into the Spring.

Memories fading into stone. You can not hear her scream.

Bondage: The Burden and the Fate

Thread 1, Part 1:

Laysan, The Memoirs of a Lesbian Bondage Love Slave

Bondage: The Burden and the Fate

(here) - recently

Key - Author's Note

In any endeavor of epic proportions, many choices must be made, particularly in light of one’s budget. And, so it is with this endeavor, Key. In these early days of the creation of this tome, two choices strongly affect the narrative which may cause some degree of distraction. The goal of this note is to highlight these shortcomings with the hope that the reader’s understanding of the producers’ constraints will help nullify the distractions and allow the reader to enjoy the tale for what it is.

The best stories are often immersive. The reader is transported to a different time or place where they feel they interact with entities native to that environment. Perhaps, in a historical novel, a reader may expect that the mannerisms, word choice, and speech patterns of the characters meet some standard preconception of the time period.

One of the choices that we had to make is that these conventions have been discarded. I have coerced a collection of amateur writers to work - worth precisely every penny they have been paid. Unfortunately, they are incapable of faking the linguistic nuances of the historical time periods which form the settings in this work. Resultantly, I have asked that they write in their native, comfortable style - colloquial, 21st century, Americanized English in all settings in order to avoid slipshod and distracting mistakes.

When a professionally written novel takes place in a foreign culture, often, words and concepts are borrowed from the language to paint a suitable picture of the setting. Additionally, characters proceed through the narrative performing activities that are normal in the society in which they live. This epic tale contains innumerable characters from many heritages, races, and cultures. Indeed, one should assume that a majority of the characters in this tale are from all sorts of places with all sorts of non-Western heritage. Unfortunately, my current collection of writers are shiftless, middle class, and white. Their skill level is simply not suitable to describe these foreign cultures and perspectives in a way that would not exoticize and, likely, offend individuals of the culture. And so, I have asked that they refrain from attempting to write from a voice unfamiliar to them. The downfall of this choice is that an inordinate collection of the characters in this tale may “come off” as merely shiftless, middle class, and white.

I apologize for these shortcomings and hope that my writers are at least capable enough to present this tale, twisted and complicated as it is. If not, do not blame me, for I have written none of it.

I have not even written this author’s note.

Sincerely,

Hollow Well