Author: Aposiopesis

No Pulp this week.  Only pulp happening here is the bloody masses I keep coughin’ up. Writing anyway.  Writing and drinking.  Takes my mind off…

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…

Half a decade of existence is no small feat, no matter what it is.  For a Second Life estate — where regions and communities come…

  The Digger wrote up the basics of how all this started — the dead girl, the key, the stones, her weird tattoo, the Courier,…

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…