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Art by David Revoy/ Blender Foundation

Moon’s Majesty

By Brendan Verville

She tightened the blindfold around her eyes and then tilted her head to the side, as if trying to look at something from another angle. She gripped the handle of her sword tight, her jaw working thoughtfully.

Walker watched her vain attempt at protecting herself and noted a meager elegance about her work. He saw a perfect balance. Her legs met at an acute angle as they crossed into the lotus position, and the sword in her hand acted as a weight to keep her grounded. Her back was to the water, and if she chose to let go of that weapon, which outsized her by more than a few pounds, she would go tumbling backward down the hill and into the sea. She couldn’t see the water crashing at her back, but she could hear it, and Walker was sure the noise filled her head.

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Art by David Revoy/ Blender Foundation

Too Much Sleep

By Brendan Verville

Linda was over for her weekly visit at my cabin, her pant legs still wet from the long canoe ride, and we were trading ghost stories. Strangely enough, out of the hundreds of conversations we had shared there in my cabin, we had never tried to scare each other as we were, or even touched upon the spiritual realm. We usually just cooked food, talked about nature, listened to music on my transistor radio, or made love. Maybe there was something about that night, like a thickness, without a single breeze to scratch the branches outside, or an animal to grace the well-worn trails. Or maybe it was because the sun had set so quickly, and it was too dark for Linda to travel home. So we curled up on my grandpa’s couch with the lights as dark as the windows, and wondered what we should do.

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