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I cannot remember my name. I do know that I am sick. I am a very sick man. I have been told by a doctor that I am frighteningly unwell and that things are looking dangerous. I do not remember what his name was, either. He was young. Vibrant. Healthy.Continue Reading

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A hundred thousand moons ago,a great blue ox as tall as the starswould wander the sleeping expanse of Earth.Where her hooves would fall, poppies and tall grasswould grow. Life would flourish there in blessed huesof yellow and green, for this was the love of great Apis,Bull of Heaven, godmother ofContinue Reading

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Couldn’t see too well. It was my mother’s living room, I knew it was, and I was sleeping on the couch, and I got up. Couldn’t see hardly at all. It was a fog, but it was in my eyes. The walls didn’t have corners. Should have been a bigContinue Reading

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Waylon Bacon works in the Fulfillment Department of Powell’s Books, where he receives, pulls, and ships orders from both the store and the website. In addition, he is a cartoonist whose ongoing webcomic ‘Frownland’ has been featured in Bang! Magazine and on Boredpanda.com, as well as in the pages ofContinue Reading

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Olive Lewis is a writer and artist living in Portland and shelving books at Powell’s. They spend most of their time creating, reading, as well as dancing with fire in order to spark stagnation away and keep the light of new knowledge burning. Also, they’re a big ol’ fantasy nerd.Continue Reading