E.C. Weinstock
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Stories (2)
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The Stains of Memory
Prologue The city of Aartan was silent as the full moon crested over the mountains. The tiered sea of moonlit rooftops was webbed by the darkness of the city's winding streets and alleyways, like a sheet of ice beginning to crack under the strain of a man too heavy. It was all quite serene to Henri, who enjoyed his view of the Avaran Capital from his cell in the Flumontre de Aartan.
By E.C. Weinstock3 years ago in Fiction
Empty Air
Chapter I: All Blue "'Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say.' One of my more 'contemplative' colleges said that to me years ago over dinner while I was still in the academy. I thought nothing of it at the time. It would only be after my first tour that I started to see where she was coming from. It is true, of course; from a physics standpoint, soundwaves can't carry in a vacuum. But when you're face-to-face with a lifeless body floating in the great unknown—breathing empty air—you don't need sound to hear the screams."
By E.C. Weinstock3 years ago in Fiction
