Korniko

I once knew a man with an unbreakable heart who in his jacket kept fragments of the hearts of those he loved. To wear a heart on one's sleeve is to encase it in nonburnable ice. She, the breaker of hearts, Had the most shattered heart of all.

The moments fell softly about my dreams as I followed the rise and fall of Amnemoni's shoulders while she slept. An infinite pause separates the beginning of this story and the undefined second during which the moonlight struck my face. I was immediately jerked into full awareness of my surroundings. I slowly retrieved my hand from the fantastic entanglement that was her rust-colored hair and rose from the creaking bed to make my way to the bathroom, where I washed my face. It was at this point that I heard a whimper from the bedroom. I prefer to assume that the sound of running water had stirred her, but in the same breath I would be willing

שיחקתי עם צללים זרים בגיא מות האלים, שם חיפשתי את שבורי הלב, רועי האהבה. לכיוון עפר צעדתי, החימר ממנו שב, בעקבות ת–

My name is Myrmidon, and I am a vegetarian. I have been sober of mind and have been without meat excluding that of fish for the past four years, and have been without the meat of fish for the past three years. I do not eat anything that falls under the category of Fauna, with the exception of by-products such as milk and unfertilized eggs. This places me in the Lacto-Ovo-Vegan group of foodstuff consumers. I beg of you, dear reader, to ask me questions if you seek to better understand your world, or if you seek to find your own peace of mind, whatever the path you may take in reaching it, whatever the difference between your path and my ow

The origin of selfish words, bane of our conversation fair, the verbal smoke that elegantly clings to burdened breath, that flows through pipes constructed by the fingers of a somewhat gifted fear, is, you see, you must, within the silence waking, for I feel the awkward footsteps of its march.

As isolated beams of sunlight penetrated the chill of the cavern, four paws gently rubbed four patches of charcoal fur that concealed sleeping eyes – those of the mother and those of the son. The elder was the Guardian, he had been told, of the secrets he was searching for. That meant that the young one was the Keeper, the unbreakable shell where those same secrets were held. Their moon-colored hair follicles seemed to repel the sun's searching rays and send them adventuring elsewhere, but he was not as occupied as the sun usually was, and therefore he had the luxury of time; minutes he could use to observe these creatures until he was convi

Who would have thought that of the myriad of fantastical creatures found in the spectrum of fairytales, it would be the Fairies who turned out to be real. Dragons seemed like a more logical gamble, what with the whole dinosaur-like aura surrounding their myths. Even Bigfoot had an atmosphere of truth about him most of the time. Elves seemed too good to be true, Dwarves were obviously a rip-off of the real deal, and Salamanders showed no affinity to flame and were quite happy to live out their amphibian lives in the wet corners of the world. Trolls! They showed so much promise early on, and it still surprises many that they did not emerge f

I said my goodbyes to Winter long before the last of the rainfalls. I decided to let go when it became clear to me that the Cold, in her extended and dark despair that crosses the seasons from the reddest point of a maple leaf to the fragile yet determined first green bud that crawls through the deepest snow to reach sunlight, deserved more warmth than I could ever give, and possessed more ice than I could ever embrace in my frail human arms, whose hold obviously could not comfort her even during her relatively happiest periods of twilight. Despite the frost that crept through my veins as I stepped into the world of a negative dozen degrees

A lone spider wanders among the silky strings of her web, killing all that flies into her transparent and hidden trap, eating any helpless creature whose life falls into her eight deadly hands. But to me she grants passage, so long as I sit beside her on the central cords for a while, and be a friend to her. When I find a spot to hold, her eight eyes pass their sight and judgment upon me once or twice, and then she stands in her place. She allows the flies and the mosquitoes to hang from their sticky ropes so that they may kill themselves in their thrashing. For the moment, she chooses to rest from her predatory life, just for a few rare mo