Advice for Writing, Editing, Reading, and Life.
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You’ve Gotta Be Knitting Me
Marge put nimble spiders to shame. She had never dropped a stitch, despite all her years knitting. Even with these clumsy, thick fingers, she coaxed yarn into textiles as a maestro coaxes soundwaves into symphonies.
Stenchwing
Sulfurous fumes wafted from Stenchwing. He knew that voice. “Oh, Sapientia… Hi.”
“Gaudi, how are you?! It’s been what? Four millen—”
“Five actually. Yeah. It’s uh, Stenchwing now.”