The Redemption of Shemesh

Note: I apologize for my lateness in posting this. I was caught up in wanting perfection for this story. 

There once was a young man, or a horror shaped in the likeness of a young man, whose name was Hastur. He was the moon, or, in other words, his light was not his own. He had light, but it was only a light that had been taken from others, and he gave nothing of his own in return to she that had loved him. His true name, spoken only in the wild places and in terrified whispers, was Darkness, and the name of his dominion the same.

Fiction: Sixteen Hours

He began his watch before the sun did. The heat of the day had yet to come, and the vanguard winds of a distant storm made the night air even colder than usual. His coat was buttoned tightly, but the cold bit his bones regardless.

Fiction: Afflatus

The scarecrow looked behind him. As far as he could see there was the desert. Somewhere out there was the train that had taken him as far as the rails of the Bad Road would go. After he had disembarked, he had rented a horse and gone many days further, until he had reached the small shack that now sat before him in the distance.

Fiction: Four Snapshots of Eternity

"Yesterday's rose endures in its name." -Eco

One.

She thinks that she is going mad. She writes but without direction; her hand has a mind of its own. She writes memories. Her memories, but they are new to her as they form in black ink beneath her fingers and spread across each page with lightning speed.

Fiction: The Restoration of the Nerf

A legend of our fathers:

In the days before God organized the West Mission, and divided it from the Mission from which it had been organized, there was but one Mission, that was the Utah Salt Lake City Mission. And there were many Mission Presidents that were called to it, and many elders that were called to it, and also many sisters.

Fiction: Absent: One Lion

Elsewhere, a kingdom is still saved. Elsewhere, a war is waged and peace is won. A table is still broken, and four chairs filled. But for others, and by others.

Fiction: The Pillar

The man shuddered, and returned his attention to the pillar in his room. There were small features evident in the otherwise faceless pillar: a slope here, a dip there. He ran a hand along the surface of the object frequently, more often than he raised his self-made chisel to it and chipped away.

Fiction: The Emperor's Children

"Go to, then," said the emperor, "and live in the land. The day will come when I shall call you home again, and till then you will learn and prosper."

Fiction: And There Are Many Rooms

Two cousins lived beside each other, each in their own home. They had been inseparable friends, more brother and sister than cousins, from childhood (and, said those who knew them, perhaps from before even then). One of them, the woman, had, since a young age, been continually renovating the house in which she lived, expanding and demolishing, constructing and deconstructing, and for what purpose her friend never knew (nor was ever told, despite frequent queries). The other, a young man, was oft bewildered by this behavior, being quite content with the little cottage of his forefathers.

Fiction: Old Words For New

Now behold, there was a young woman who had grown into the time of her duty, and had sat at the feet of her parents, which were just, and had taught her in the way that she should go. And the time came that she had grown into her duty, and was called to go into another world, as it were, or in other words a place where never she had walked before.

Fiction: The Seller of Stars

Beneath the hang of every rainbow there is the fairy market. Here there is every thing for sale, both pottage and signets, silver and blood, and for any price there is something to be had.

Fiction: Song and Rain

A training missionary and his son were walking on the dirt road again one day when, without any permission whatsoever, or even a polite advance notice, the storm clouds gathered and the rains descended. And so fiercely did they descend that after a few minutes the younger missionary looked too and fro for a handy ark, observing that circumstances were looking as if it would be necessary. If nothing else, his feet were certainly drowning by this time.

Fiction: Two Fishers

Two sat alone in a boat, a fisherman and a fisher of men. They sat with their backs to each other, poles in hand, and the silence of the cool night air was broken only by their low voices and the occasional plop of a fishing line.

Fiction: They called him Judas, after the dagger

A soul met with Peter to thus sojourn with him at the gates of Heaven for a time. Their conversation came to turn to Judas, and the soul mentioned its pity for him, that he was cast into outer darkness for betraying the Son of Man.

Fiction: Stories We Tell Each Other in the Dark

There was a couple and their children that I witnessed, sitting all together around a silent pit. The wind howled, and the trees shook, and the storm clouds gathered above them.

Fiction: Brother, Have You See the Mountain?

Into the city Luz, a city of the plain, there came a traveler- a wild man, an holy man (a "mountain man," said he of himself, and his hearers scoffed at the word). Into their city he came, past the dukes playing chess at their great oaken tables, and the princes singing of olden wars from half-forgotten times, past the walls and pillars inscribed with the word DESTRUCTION in awful black ink.