dreamszilla

Ishida must defend his clan, but the invincible Western army is approaching, led by a dirigible with predictive capabilities - should his loyalties remain with General Ii and the Emperor? Image generated with OpenAI Just below the clouds, it drifted, white smoke trailing from its aft. For most airships, cruising so low would've been a strategic error: first, it left it vulnerable to storms, and second, detection by the enemy. The hands of the Sanada feared neither. Even now, its thirty-man crew strolled about the deck, gazing down on the land like gods. They could see every tree, hill, ford, knoll, man and beast. And everything could see them. It was only when the din of camp life petered out did Ishida realise something was happening outside. Rolling up his maps, the lanky young captain stood, peeled open his tent flap, and stepped out. The harsh mid-morning light assaulted his eyes. As Ishida adjusted his kepi to block the glare of the sun, he glanced...

Enzo loves Miranda and wants to have a child with her, but there is a terrible secret in her past. Image generated with OpenAI Enzo knew he should put the picture down. The water was off; Miranda was done showering. She'd come back into their bedroom any second. But he couldn't get himself to change his position: lying naked atop the covers, holding the framed photo of the baby to his face. The chin - a little pinched, almost cleft - was Miranda's. The brown eyes and dark hair must have come from the ex. The joy in the kid's face, the skin stretched by mirth, was universal - some little fire we're born with, sustaining us as long as it can. The bathroom door clicked, and Enzo thrust the picture back to its new place on the bedside table. If Miranda noticed, she didn't say anything - just walked slowly towards Enzo, completely naked. He appreciated this habit of hers, of showering before sex, of strutting so he could see all of her: the straight blo...

A cartoonist sees his estranged mother on a train, and reflects on the unusual calamities that drove his family apart. Image generated with OpenAI I was reading the Advocate, and it was all about The Reaper . The Reaper - the wind that comes across the lake in the winter, gathering speed and ice before it whips through the streets of Landreth, my home town. From December to March it is a brutal thing. It kills people, older people mainly, in the poorer areas like Greek Fields and Labone, people who cannot afford enough heat to see them through to spring. It was January and according to the figures ninety-six had died so far, and there would be more. If you were poor, you just prayed for it to stop. That was what I was reading about when I saw her. I was on the four-ten from Smartwater, due into Landreth South at six-forty-two. I had been in Smartwater for a meeting with Parax Publications, the people who publish my work. I draw and write comic-strips. If I am known at al...