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The Dragon

I did not kill that man. How could I kill someone who doesn't exist?

I knocked on the dragon's door. "Damnit! Don't you know what time it is?" I didn't. I'd stopped sleeping. How could I, with questions of such profoundity gnawing on my brain? I wanted to know about the Gnostics, about the divine spark trapped in flesh. I wanted to know about the archons and the demiurge.

He wasn't a dragon, not anymore. He had chosen to become human, to live among us. Crazy. But he knew many secrets and he shared them all with me. Eventually.

stanley.lieber's picture

PAPER WINTER

Downstream

This is a piece of micro fiction. Enjoy.

Downstream
by Dustin Driver

“Are you OK?” asks Olhado.

“Sure.”

His silhouette dances against the glare of the sun like a reflection in a funhouse mirror. The throbbing in my head is getting worse. I doubt I could stand if asked.

“You don’t look so good,” he replies.

“I’m fine, I’m just hot.”

stanley.lieber's picture

ADVANCE

stanley.lieber's picture

CU/FARLEY