So What’s My Problem with Death, Really?

This is the last post in these series that involves actual people dying. At least for a good long while, I hope. If you've been here before, you might know about Mates, Apacka and Berry. They were my friends, and they are all dead. They've gone way before the fickle beast of life expectancy statistics … Continue reading So What’s My Problem with Death, Really?

Night Mass

One starry night, the deer decided to serve a mass for himself. Strange, isn't it? Then again, is there anyone who has never done such a thing? Even the living bones torn from your own body can be a treat if you sugarcoat them well enough. Only the owl knows better. The painting reproduction used … Continue reading Night Mass

So What’s My Problem with Death, Anyway? (3/3)

If one death post a day is not enough for you, then you've just got lucky! In November 2017, I learned about another way too early departure of someone I knew. I was in Tokyo on a business trip. It was a crisp and unusually clear morning, with the rising sun painting the sprawling megalopolis … Continue reading So What’s My Problem with Death, Anyway? (3/3)

So What’s My Problem with Death, Anyway? (2/3)

Here we go, it didn't take that long to break my vague promise of posting regularly every #GruesomeFriday. I'm one week late due to traveling and general laziness, but let's agree there is always time to make up for such sins, shall we? To remind you what this is about - welcome to the second … Continue reading So What’s My Problem with Death, Anyway? (2/3)

One of Four

White sun was beating on a plain that was cracked like a jig-saw puzzle made of scorched dirt. Deep down between the bone-dry walls of the cracks, grass cowered in shadow and sucked on the last beads of lingering dew. At noon, unshod hooves rang on the stone-hard soil. A black horse was galloping over … Continue reading One of Four

Bearded Stump

It used to be a great city before hot winds came from the plains and the sky turned sulfuric yellow. Nothing could save the people, no prayers, no fancy gadgets. It was too late. The city’s pride got hamstrung by the scythe of the broken nature’s wrath. The towering houses shrunk and withered until only … Continue reading Bearded Stump