The screech of metal against stone filled the dark, wooded halls of the Oak King’s palace. He stood at the grinding wheel, foot pumping, honing his blade. After so many thousands of years, the twining knots on the center were almost nonexistent, but if he held it just right, the moonlight would catch them, revealing the sword’s former glory.
The Exile Kite
by Peter Tupper
The guards led Shiloh in heavy, clanking chains down the corridor, lined with framed images from Before, bearing names that, generations ago, meant something: Ford, Google, Exxon, FEMA, USARMY. Now they were the revered past of a society that had no future. Continue reading Advent Calendar: “Exile Kite” by Peter Tupper