Along a stretch of grayscale sand, swept smooth and clean by the wind, a set of unusual footprints appeared. No one made them. None that I could see, anyway, which was troubling to begin with. But more worrying was how the footprints raised instead of imprinted, moonlight glinting along the outlined relief. As if someone … Continue reading The Hopeful Wanderer – Footprints in the Sand
I had the rain to thank for my recent growth. Days and days of cool moisture, seeping through the roof and the walls. Water stains spreading outward the way I spread my fuzzy gray-green tendrils along the ceiling corner I called home. Not ready to send my spores spiraling throughout the house. My children to … Continue reading Natural Growth – A Halloween Special
Old boards creaked beneath my boots as I meandered across a rotting footbridge. In the entrenchment it crossed lay the mere memory of running water in the layer of mud at the bottom. Leaf loam littered the ground beneath wide-spaced trees. I had my gaze upward, regarding the rustling branches above, when a hand grasped … Continue reading The Hopeful Wanderer – The Toll
Question marks surrounded me. Big, pale, spray painted on every trunk as far as I could see. Glowing in the gloom beneath the spreading branches of enormous pines. All facing me, like the disapproving gaze of a fussy uncle. Just a moment ago, the forest had appeared as any other cluster of trees. Embarrassment overtook … Continue reading The Hopeful Wanderer – A Punctuated Demand
In a disintegrating room stood a girl in a white dress. She had her back to me, hem trailing among broken bricks. She was about to begin. "What's that sound?" She turned toward the wrecked wall, then she stumbled backward and fell over. Her form drifted apart like fingers raked through mist. After a moment, … Continue reading The Hopeful Wanderer – The Role of the Witness
On a clear desert night, the crush of shifting sand from just outside my tent woke me. I lay on my bedroll in the dark, listening to the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. The gait of my visitor... lurched. Or hopped. When it stopped next to my tent, the shadow of a lengthy, humanoid shape … Continue reading The Hopeful Wanderer – Name Calling
When the moon drew too close, we retreated indoors and barred the windows shut. Mystified, I helped with the task of preparing for a siege, but once the work was done, I tried to be on my way. The townsfolk would have none of it. "It's just a lunar eclipse," I argued. I was standing … Continue reading The Hopeful Wanderer – A Silent Eclipse
Here's a thing to add to my future autobiography: I've signed books for people who bought them.
S. G. Baker's Blog 