Gallade's Story Archive

 The clock ticks quietly overhead as my blankets unfurl at the behest of my feet kicking them away. The early morning smell of stuffy sheets replaced with the unusual airiness that is a still room. Rolling over, I note the hour. 10:40 AM. Bleh. I dismiss the frabjous feelings of calling out or just not appearing, but I am duty-bound to approach. Looking out the window, I see the planet. The trees torn by the wind, the watery slosh of the ocean against the shore in more and more violent tsunamis. I was late once, and it took out my apartment, so in the interest of not house-hunting again, I get out of bed. I suppose it's necessary. I've considered not going several times. Like, the people of this world used to simply deal with the clock-work-like destruction, why not let them deal with it again? It's not my fault they got used to me saving them. But then I remember the things I sacrifice. The chance to get a coffee at my favorite shop. The chance to play games with functioni...

 I walked the quiet pristine halls with mild joy and vigor. Today, I may find something new. I passed quarters. I passed volumes. No new story am I sure. I walked the quiet pristine halls with curiosity and wonder. Here, there is something strange. Among the many books, one says my name. I walked the many pristine halls for ages now, and here this book, it says something new. The first line is curious, and familiar too: "I walked the quiet pristine halls with mild joy and vigor. Today I may find something new." Words of course which make me shiver. I walked the quiet pristine halls with mild joy and vigor. And now, I think, I walk no more.

Creatus took a pool of heated copper and tin, and hammered it into a sphere. Over and over, for thousands of years, Creatus hammered away, trying to perfect the sphere, getting closer and closer. But, there was just a handful too much copper. The sphere was never perfect. Eventually, in his frustration, Creatus forced all the imperfections onto one conjoined part of the sphere. This was acceptable, for a while. Soon, however, Creatus’ patience again thinned. Rather than spend another thousand years trying to fix it, he covered the sphere in immense quantities of water. The incredible mass of metal held the water to its surface, and the dark depths hid the flaws for a while.     However, in his perfectionism, he sought to know if his solution worked. He borrowed a light from a nearby project and hung it, bright as it was, eight minutes away from his project. At first, the project looked lovely. A bright blue transluscent sphere, with a hidden, hinted copper core. But as th...

          It was one of those nights. My mug of coffee had run dry, and the day’s Times was just dreary and unmoving. The rain struck hard against my windows, the bleak streets broken only by the yellow glow of their lamps on this dark night. The ceiling fan spun wryly over my olive-green office, threatening to put out my last cigarette. It was then that I heard a faint strike on my door. The rat-tat-tat of a youngster, unsure if this is the place.         “Come in,” my voice answered before I’d decided. I’d had enough money for the week, and it was late enough to pretend to be away. Oh well, what’s done is done.         The door creaked open, and a young woman stepped inside. She had a flapper’s dress on, and in her hands she carried her purse and her gloves. She was dressed for a party, so I couldn’t help but wonder what lover’s quarrel led her here. I had her sit down, ha...