Ochre Idyls

Poems, Haiku/Tanka, Short Fictions

I rested my truck in the shade, a hundred yards from the lane up to his cabin. It was hot, the bio-brownout's magic still in effect. He was lakeside and armed in his stone cabin. He had made a mess of me. But that was last time and I had something I knew he didn't. A working memory.

  • Fiction
  • 58 words
  • < 1 min
  • July 04, 2025