A Wizard Walks His Dog

“Milton! It’s time to walk the dog!”

I started, fumbling a beaker of potion and nearly exterminating myself. “Mom! Please!” Truth was that she was just being a witch. Continue reading



Sigmund had always dreamed of hunting dragons. Old stories handed down over generations. Valor, gold, fame awaited.

He spent years honing copious martial skills, studying to think like a dragon. He learned to track a dwarf by sense of smell. To leap from rock to rock like a mountain goat. To swing a pole ax like a plastic knife wielding whirling dervish. Continue reading

Strange Potion

This is a continuation of Strange Trio Redux.


The rain came down in the streets like an ALS ice bucket challenge from the heavens. Miss Hill shivered under the black cape.

“I hope this place isn’t very far!” she yelled. Ms. White didn’t seem to hear.

It wasn’t. After only a block of the cold water treatment, Ms. White stopped in front of a brick wall. “We’re here,” she declared. Continue reading

Strange Rain

This is a follow-up to Strange Brew.

* * *

Miss Hill got off the subway near midtown. The station smelled of exhaust fumes, oil, and stale sweat as she was carried along by the mob of humanity like a small cork in a swift stream. At street level, she stopped to get her bearings. A cold blast of wind shouldered its way down the concrete streets between the buildings. An exasperated taxi operator hammered on his horn nearby. Continue reading

Strange Brew

She checked the time on her phone again. Stirring the cream and sugar in her second, or was it her third?, cup of coffee, she sat in a booth on an electric orange vinyl seat and watched out the window. It was midday but dark outside. A storm had engulfed New York and the eerie black clouds clung overhead like a damp cloak. As she watched, another bolt of lightning fanned out across the broiling clouds, lighting the streets in a blue glow, casting confused shadows. Thunder ricocheted between the buildings. Continue reading

The Princess and Her Hart

Eemyoin first stumbled upon the strange clearing when he was out hunting for venison for his growing family. He had chased his quarry, a magnificent buck, into a strange clearing of purple ground cover. After several steps into this clearing, he had a strange light-headed feeling come over him. Despite this dizziness, he staggered on, intent on catching his prey. He thought he saw the head and antlers just ahead, watching him, hanging in a milky fog. With his next step, he stumbled and fell forward, landing on a bare patch of ground among the purple weeds and thorns. He lifted his head and the thick fog had vanished. Instead of the stag, he saw a beautiful young woman in what looked like a bird nest. Continue reading