Author’s Note: This story is closely based on a nightmare I had, written up the following night and only modified enough to make some amount of sense.
At sixty-three it was the oldest thing out there, living or inanimate. The house behind it was only forty-two. Everything older was off in the dark trees, grumbling, bundling up for the whipping wind of the late November night. The device was ready for anything, having weathered plenty of Cayuga winters already. Continue reading
“Tell me how to say it again,” Archie Vinpipe pleaded, mostly to distract from the rattling of the dark carriage. Nothing but a pair of lanterns illuminated the surrounding forest. The moon was hidden by dark clouds that continued to pour snow as they had for nearly two days. Their driver was only able to press forward because of the trail left by the other guests and the excellent breeding stock of the four reindeer pulling the vehicle. The way the driver told it, they were no more than nine generations from Prancer himself and could, when properly motivated, run several inches off the ground. Continue reading