Copyright © by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.
Featured Image: Stellar Survey, by Maciej Rebisz
“You’ve taken a top-of-the-line spaceship of the 22nd century, stripped it to essentials, and rebuilt it in the semblance of a 17th century galleon. Why?” “Art,” he says at the ship’s wheel. “Hoist the solar sails.” “Aye aye, Captain,” she smiles. “Aye aye.” A five-hour hike from the nearest road or even a trail, the oddity’s spires and size allude to a cathedral. But its abandoned black stones in the woods don’t feel holy. “How can this not be on any map?” I write in my journal. “This Church, this Starry Wisdom?” “…and that’s when the witch shrunk the prince and me,” the farm girl said. “Right out of our clothes! Small as ants!” The bumblebee’s head turned quizzically askew. “Will you help me save him from that hag? A quick flight?” It kneels and nods as she gets on. The hatchling stretched content, glinting metallic with splayed wings. “So cute!” she smiles. “Say that after they burp fire on your couch,” he nods. “Any other drawbacks to dragon adoption?” He drops a silver ingot in a bowl. “Feeding them costs a fortune!” I swipe at the bee flying in front of my face. “Go away!” “G-O-A-W-A-Y,” it buzzes. “Great, a spelling bee.” “You serve your sentence as an object in Flum?” “Yeah,” his talking chamber pot cellmate says. “I got a conviction for potty-mouth. You?” “Pickpocketing.” “Oh, they’re going to nail your ass to the wall!” “Really?” “Yeah. Make you a coat hook or something.” It speaks. “The record you have played is enchanted. You will experience 10 years of wizard training, but only 20 minutes will pass outside this trance.” “87 years!” I scream. “Make it stop!” “I am a recording.” “The record skips!” “Let’s begin…”