The Lighthouse, Beacon PointThe man at the lighthouse door was a hatchet-faced, bone-dry bureaucrat, the sort that appear to have been spawned in a filing cabinet by an unholy union between ink-wells. Hugh Willard had no illusions that the man was here as a tourist; he assumed that this fellow was here on city business, and wondered what news the ( Read more... )

The journals were hidden behind a row of thick astrological references, and one might be foriven for mistaking them for more of the same. Eric was just in the act of sweeping them into the box destined for the used book stores when he recognsed them for what they were ( Read more... )

Aaron Moore was not a romantic. He was a practical man who had no illusions about everlasting love or any of the sentimental rubbish one found in books. There was nothing he would do for love -- and there was nothing he wanted in return. If anyone had declared to him that they would do whatever for his sake, he would take that as a sign that he ( Read more... )

At midnight, we stood outside the entrance to Fenheim, Olaff and I: he in the gateway, and I in the deep shadows. He leaned on his axe, and I watched the people within the camp. Valgard spoke quietly with Mal'nen, and Sully nodded to them, then walked toward us. I stood still in the blackness, knowing he did not see me ( Read more... )

Steppingstones behind
Open road stretching ahead
So dawns a new day

Walking on the night trail ( Read more... )

There is something to be said for ancient cities. There is a haunting sense of history about their walls and foundations, something about the crumbling stonework. It is as if the thoughts and dreams of a thousand generations of passing people have worked their way into the very mortar, and it is this, their humanity and not the mortar, that now ( Read more... )

Mind still overrun
by Inception characters.
Where are you, Shanelle?
Did you run and hide again?
I need you for this weekend.

Johan crouched at the feet of the statue of Leopold the Inarticulate, high above Carpathy Square, and focussed his binoculars on the corner where the turn-off to Hamelin Gate sprouted out of the main highway like a blackened growth. He'd been waiting here since sunset; he'd waited for the last of the daytime throng to dissipate, then swarmed up ( Read more... )

I finished it! This picks up from where Part 1 left off.

( Cut for length (also swear words, some of them British) )