Storygram #19
My iron black hair and my silvery metal fist for a left hand were how the peasants knew me. As soon as I walked across the drawbridge and through the gate, everyone froze.
Storygram #17
The legendary man who won’t die. His hero. His mentor. “I’m not telling you where he is.” She laughed too hard for his liking.
Storygram #13
Her eyes welled up as she saw that everything was just as she had left it, with the exception of a blanket of dust. And there in the second row, third desk from the left, sat Will Crinden.
Storygram #7
She grabbed a paper from a nearby stand: 1969. Man had just stepped on the moon for the first time, not knowing that the first colony wouldn’t be there for another 74 years.