Observations of The Urban Spaceman

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Storm winds come, storm winds go He slumbers in the earth below Close your mind, close your eyes In the darkness he will rise Fallen King who dwelt in stone Sleeping still in soil-clad bone Risen soon from earthen bed To place a crown upon his head Ancient foes, beware, beware Flesh and blood and bone laid bare Sharpened steel, lightning-forged The Fallen King picks up his sword In the darkness he… Read More

Tom fiddled with the small dial labelled ‘red’, tweaking it millimetre by millimetre until the sky’s hue was a more pleasing shade of deep pink. Everyone thought Atmospheric Controller was a purely technical job. ‘Boring’, most deemed it. Kids didn’t even glance twice at his stall on Careers Day.

Snow Day (or, Somebody Stole My Hills) That sinking feeling when you realise you’re probably not going to get your car off the drive today.