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Lots To Say

It has been a while since we have discussed the postcard which is all, or nearly all, words. Our ancestors were great fans of an art form which some prefer to call poetry, though sometimes the same sentiments were written in a paragraph that didn’t pretend to be anything but prose. I don’t knowContinue reading “Lots To Say”

DRAGONSHELF AND THE DROVER XXV

Bott hit the big golden door first. The black knob turned a fingerwidth to the left, but no farther. The grumbles of the grobbles grew louder as more pushed up onto the bridge. The scent pf burning grobble was unattractive, but not as unattractive as the odor of approaching unburnt grobble. A dimpledContinue reading “DRAGONSHELF AND THE DROVER XXV”

FICTION FRIDAY: Virtual Game Replicator

“Deluded human!” The skeleton swung its gladius and slashed a dozen pictures pinned to Debbi’s kitty bulletin board. She pulled to the left, jamming a thumb down on the console. Armor clanked and Dirk struck out with his claymore, slicing the creature in half (and severing the bottom two feet of the HelloContinue reading “FICTION FRIDAY: Virtual Game Replicator”

Excuses, Excuses

Well, we’re sneaking up on spring, or vice versa, and I’m sure you’ll remember that fine old line: “In spring, a young man’s fancy turns lightly to what the young ladies have been thinking about all winter.” Postcards were never shy about romance, and the artists responsible for the images on postcards knewContinue reading “Excuses, Excuses”

DRAGONSHELF AND THE DROVER XXIV

“Grobble grobble grobble.” “Hey, grumblin’ grobbles! Getcher big baggy shoulders outa my way! How many we got?” Bott looked the newcomer over. A low gray oval with deep black eyes and long grey teeth was toddling through the forest, paying no attention to the glittering trees. Tufts of red hair over theContinue reading “DRAGONSHELF AND THE DROVER XXIV”

FICTION FRIDAY: Walking Into a Barmecide

The knock on the door of the unlikely little shop was thunderous. “Good afternoon, sir. How may I….” “Remember me?” “Certainly, sir. You are Galliga of Coyne, who set off to defeat the Dragon of Mount….” “You sold me the magic tablecloth of Queen Clothilde.” “True, sir. An excellentContinue reading “FICTION FRIDAY: Walking Into a Barmecide”

They May NOT Be Out There

I hang out with a number of Luddite intellectuals: that is, these are people who still read books and watch television, and wonder about some of the things they learn in these places. But since they do not believe in allowing the Interwebs into their homes, they then tell these things to me, knowingContinue reading “They May NOT Be Out There”

DRAGONSHELF AND THE DROVER XXIII

“Where is she?” Bott demanded, pulling the gold card out of his pocket. “You know the rules, lummox. I can tell you only where the Dragonshelf is.” Bott glanced around the little yellow room again for impending hazards, and then demanded, “Can you tell me if I went through the same doorContinue reading “DRAGONSHELF AND THE DROVER XXIII”

Old Joke Archaeology

The problem of dealing with archaic humor is that you often run into jokes which are amusing primarily if you know the context, and know something about the times. That joke about why Santa Claus won’t bring you a television because he has so much trouble with antennas on the roof isn’t quite theContinue reading “Old Joke Archaeology”

THE MIGHTY ARREN, R.N. AND THE IMPEDIMENT MONSTER

“She’s back!” whispered George, one of the male nurses on night shift. “She’s back!” Whispers became cheers as the tall, iron-thewed warrior strode along the corridor, her starched uniform rustling to attract her followers. One by one they fell in behind their mighty hero, knowing she could not fail a second time. Continue reading “THE MIGHTY ARREN, R.N. AND THE IMPEDIMENT MONSTER”