Before The Contamination my job was much easier. I’d never complain, of course, but stopping Outcasts from scaling a 188-foot waterfall to flee has been tough since they drained Lake Erie. Back then there was a waterfall and not just gangs of emaciated buffalo humping forlornly at the edge.
Come for the flash fiction and short stories. Stay for the sense of wonder at deriving meaning from weird symbols on a screen