Joe’s head hurt more than usual. What happened last night? Where had he been, what had he done? He was hoping he’d never find out. No news were good news.
He turned his head. A woman was lying beside him. Pretty. Too pretty. Definitely a whore, there’s no way she’d be here for free. He looked around. He seemed to be in some cheap motel somewhere. At least he hadn’t brought her home.
I’m too old for this shit, he thought to himself.
His bladder was about to explode, so he pulled himself together and got out of bed. It hurt. Every muscle, every bone. His mind. His mind hurt like hell, and the room was spinning.
He went out into the bathroom, and sat down on the loo. He sat there for a while. Images flashing by, memories of yesterday. Girls laughing. Him dancing on the table.
Too old, he thought. Too fucking old.
He pulled a sheet from the paper roll, started folding it. A sound. He looked down between his legs.
A rat. (More)
Tired of running, you stand before a formless mass of faces. Tentacles are reaching out for you, grabbing you. Pulling … More
Since Christmas is a time for traditions, I’m republishing this story about Santa’s early origins first published the first Christmas … More
Thor had been on a journey through Jotunheim, the land of the Giants. On his way home he stopped, and camped by the foot of a mountain. He grilled one of his goats on the fire, ate, and went to sleep.
When he woke up in the morning, his goat had resurrected, as always. The two of them were waiting eagerly to get going, already strapped to the wagon. He got his clothes on, got his power belt on and reached out for his gloves Járngreipnr. They were gone. He looked everywhere, under his blanket, under the rocks around. They were not to be found. Someone had stolen them while he was sleeping.
Dark clouds gathered in the skies as he screamed in fury… (More)
He dreamt of long, relaxed nights, of sleeping all day. He dreamt of creating beauty. He dreamt of green forests and waterfalls. He dreamt of being free.
There was nothing but desert. Rocks and sand as long as his eyes could see. Hard work all day. Burning sun. Dry air.
He jumped up on the tank driller once again, drove up the hill… (More)
Odin walked. He had been walking for a long time. He knew now, what he hadn’t wanted to believe. From his throne he had seen it, both with the eye he still had, and the one floating in Mimir’s well. His two ravens, Hugin and Munin had whispered it in his ears for centuries. He had to go there, he had to see it up close.
He had walked between humans, wandered among them. He had travelled through the whole of Midgard, asked, investigated. It was just as bad as he had feared… (More)