“On Perfumed Wings it Ascended” by Andrew Johnston
When the dragon first wound its way through the fragrant mist that swallowed the mountain, most had no reckoning of its nature. It was a …
The Metaworker Literary Magazine
Where great stories are forged.
When the dragon first wound its way through the fragrant mist that swallowed the mountain, most had no reckoning of its nature. It was a …
There used to be an edge where the world ended, where ships would tumult down cataracts into nothingness. There are places still, buffers and hallows …
comforting chatter from front-facing seat soothing justified cries in empathetic debate smoothing frosting onto clumping, cracked cake overflowing trashcan. No—it can wait Chemicals carve; his …