Short Stories

Dead Weight - An Artful Young Rogues Short Story
That day is scarred into my memory. It haunts me. I don’t need to worry about the hells, because every time I sleep, every time I drift off… I see it. The faces. The fear. The freak below the waterline.The crew had gathered for the show in the morning winter sun, milling about the various decks, rigging and rails. I use the term ‘crew’ lightly, for they were a ragged bunch. Torn uniforms. Foul mouths. Poor hygiene. Rejects of the Regime – stuck on muck duty of cleaning up the... Read more...