WE ALL HAVE THOSE DAYS when everything goes wrong – but not always do we have someone looking over our shoulder while it does. Prosatio Silban stifled an exasperated sigh. Mustn’t show my impatience, either with her or my circumstances,…
Tag: Fictions
What I’m trying to become a writer of.
Prosatio Silban and the Minor Plague
SOMETIMES, A SMALL MALADY CAN be a big problem. Prosatio Silban groaned, sat up in his sleeping-berth, and put his head in his hands. If these hiccoughs don’t (hic) end soon, he thought, I will.
Prosatio Silban and the Maker’s Mark
AS THE OLD SAYING GOES, “No one here gets out alive” – or unmarred. “Where did you get that scar?” asked the woman with the flirtatious smile, indicating Prosatio Silban’s right hand. The cook-errant raised one eyebrow and a mouth-corner.…
Prosatio Silban and the Assembly Eclectic
AS THE WISE SAY: “Some aspirations should remain so.” Prosatio Silban put the finishing touches on a plate of fidget-hen confit and pureed artichokes, and stood back to admire it. I don’t know how I do it, but I’m glad…
Camouflage (A Prosatio Silban Amuse-Bouche)
“WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF garnishes?” asked one of Prosatio Silban’s regular customers as he set down a healthy portion of sauced beef-loin with accordion potatoes. “That is a complicated question, and one which inspires many different answers,” The Cook…
Prosatio Silban’s Backpocket Cookery
BY GREAT POPULAR DEMAND, AND barring any unforeseen circumstances, forthcoming editions of The Cook For Any Price — both Across the Rimless Sea and More Commonwell Tales — are planned to include a smattering of appended recipes. Until then, here…
Prosatio Silban and the Consequential Light
THERE IS A REASON THAT the expression “take care with your wishes” is such a widespread cliché. It was a fine spring day, mixing an unbroken vault of blue, the alluring scent of sun-warmed fragrantia, and magah-birds crooning sprightly refrains…
Prosatio Silban and the Shattered Vessel
WE’VE ALL HEARD OF LOST arts. But what about lost artists? Prosatio Silban rolled out of his sleeping-berth and onto his ornate braided rug, studying the bedside mirror with worry etched on his face and defeat slumping his shoulders. I…
Prosatio Silban and the Paid Piper
WHEN THE CHICKENS COME HOME to roost, there is often confusion in the henhouse. What a strange dream, Prosatio Silban thought, sitting up in his sleeping-berth. So vivid. So compelling. Then he caught his breath and listened. Someone or something…
Prosatio Silban and the Midnight Summons
WE HAVE READ MANY TIMES of the Heirs Second, who rule the Uulian Commonwell by solemn duty and occasional whim. But who rules the Heirs Second? Late one night, Prosatio Silban was hard at work scrubbing the inside of a…
Prosatio Silban and the Jade Hawk
NO ONE HAS YET DEVISED a satisfactory agency for long-distance intimacy – but in every world, there’s at least one that tries. With a protracted high-pitched scream, an enormous emerald-hued bird circled Prosatio Silban’s galleywagon in descending spirals as the…
Prosatio Silban and the Sleepless Heat
“WHO IS WISE?” ASKS THE old sage-monk – and answers: “One who learns from everyone.” Prosatio Silban squirmed in his damp sleeping-berth for the hundredth time, then finally rolled himself out of it and onto his feet. ENOUGH, he thought,…