curse

Immaculate yellow banners flap in the light breeze from on high in the towers.  The grass is growing again after a long winter, and the birds are returning to nest in the trees.  Animals return from hibernation, bringing new and interesting fauna to the sights around the castle.  The early afternoon light bathes the courtyard in its warm glow, illuminating the dozens of finely crafted statues of men and women having sex in increasingly lewd positions, many indescribable by mortal words.  Truly, Maringyon is the most prestigious school for succubi and incubi alike, teachi

(or, “Lies, Damn Lies, and Balloons”)

It's been three months since I popped Nebraska Jones in the Wakellium tomb and tonight is my big night. My agent has arranged a showing for one of the greatest Wakellium finds in the past thirty years. The headdress of Marmaren the last great chieftain of the Wakellium people. The stage is set and the crowd is ready, I take a last nervous breath before stepping out of the curtain and greeting the audience. I stand at the podium read from my notes.

Alisa could have had the easy life. Almost as soon as she could walk, she’d been trained as an acrobat in her family’s circus. It was long, hard work for little reward, but she accepted it as her calling and put all her heart into it. Then, when she was 12, a lottery ticket bought on a whim made the family instant multi-millionaires. Almost overnight, her parents shut down the circus and retired to a life of luxury. But Alisa knew she’d never be happy with everything just handed to her on a platter, and after a few months of “retirement”, she ran away from home.