The Stone Cavern: A New Beginning

I’d read somewhere that it’s not true, the old urban legend that says, “If you die in your dream, you die for real.” I wasn’t sure; I’d always managed to wake up just before that final, fateful moment. Others assured me they’d died hundreds of times – “Every night, a thousand different ways!” claimed one of my college friends. His tone was just a little too chipper and he couldn’t sleep until he’d exhausted himself through study, partying, or driving endless circles around town. I’ll admit that I was curious – but still fearful enough that I always managed to thwart the dream, to pull back, to turn it “lucid” at the last minute. This must be what it felt like to hover at the edge of death, even if you knew that the next few seconds couldn’t really hurt you and you absolutely believed there was something better on the other side. Read more

The Stone Cavern: Breathtaking

Breathtaking

The paramedics didn’t stick around long. By the time they showed up, my heartbeat was strong and regular. I was upright, rubbing my bruised ribs with one hand, reaching for a glass of wine with the other. Jose shook his head and moved the wine out of reach. “No more of that for tonight, okay?” He finished taking my blood pressure for the third time, wrote something on his tablet PC, and smiled. All of my vital signs were amazingly…vital. Read more

The Stone Cavern: Wings to See With

“Imagining what it would be like to have wings?” she asked, moving between me and the cliff’s edge. “Come on, let me show you something.” She pressed on, climbing upwards, disappearing behind the flowing veil of water. I’m not sure what I’d expected, but surely it wasn’t this warmly furnished room, roughly cut into the mountainside behind the waterfall. Surely it wasn’t the amber glow of a lamp placed atop an antique mahogany desk. And surely, whatever creatures dwelled in darkness, deep in the dank recesses of a cavern hidden behind a thunderous rush of water, it wasn’t this smiling woman dressed in loose-fitting crimson pants and tunic embroidered in gold thread. Her long hair, the color of polished brass, was pulled back in a careless braid. “You look…surprised.” She laughed. “What were you expecting to find?” Read more

The Stone Cavern: The First Time

The First Time

“So, how old were you – your first time?” Zoe poured two large glasses of wine and we settled into her comfy, overstuffed, silver-and-burgundy brocade couch.

“Zoe!” I feigned shock. “If you’re off the clock, that’s far too personal.”

“What?” I’d thrown her off balance. As understanding dawned, her cheeks flushed. “Kasi, you’re incorrigible. I meant your first time at the Stone Cavern.” Read more

The Stone Cavern: Fear and Longing

Fear and Longing

I stumbled to the kitchen. Fresh, soul-restoring Sumatra gurgled from the yellowing plastic coffee maker. I reached into the cupboard for a mug. My fingers brushed against the black and white “RTFM” mug, paused momentarily at the caffeine molecule mug, hesitated briefly over the color-changing Descartes, who disappeared as hot coffee changed the words from “I think” to “I think not.” I finally settled on the green “42” and a little tea towel – I needed answers and I wanted to be prepared for them when they came to me. Read more

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What started out as a cheeky dare has become a fun, serious writing project for writers Marian Allen, Mitchell Allen, and Holly Jahangiri. Join us as we race for the Hugo Award! Yes, we're going to have to write some damned fine fiction, first, to win it...