Posted on Mar 17
To distract himself from the remaining St. Paddy’s revelers crowding his deli, Carl silently cursed the shamrock hanging above the counter. Tabitha had bought the dumb thing at an antiques shop, teasing her dad about his newfound hatred for St. Patrick...
story carl the piecemaker
Posted on Mar 16
Apparently, magic whiskey smells like mud and Froot Loops. Robbie hadn’t tasted it yet. His older brother claimed he’d bartered with an old wizard up in Harren Mast for the whiskey, implying he’d paid some terrible mystical price for it. Robbie suspected...
story flash fiction tommy aegis crashtest
Posted on Mar 15
It was Tabitha’s third beer in less than an hour, and she still wasn’t buzzed. Why had she ordered beer, anyway? Anything would’ve been a better choice. Vodka. Whiskey. That gross-looking bacon moonshine in a mason jar the bartender kept forcing people...
tabitha the pixel