Tag: The Pulp

The Season of Violent Winds meets its end in the coming days.  The gales become gusts, the gusts become breezes, and the breezes become mere…

Today, for the first time in far too many moons, the air is filling up with the ticking of wordmachine keys, and a piece of…

It’s hard to sum up the strangeness of the last few moons.  I’d have written it as it all happened, and tried – but coughing…

The Season of Revival seemed to seek nothing but punishment.  Late ice storms, snow storms, and general coldness keep scavengers bundled up, even as the…

Winter digs in the knife one last time.  Pellets of ice, hard and sharp and slick, pummel everything.  The business of scavenging and trade go…