Death is Hungry; A Tale of Gluttony Death is Hungry; A Tale of Gluttony By Megan Cutler | July 14, 2017 | Comments 0 Comment This is sort of an indirect follow-up to the story I posted last week, Blood for the Dead. When I sat down to do this second round of Seven Deadly Sins prompts, I had a hard time choosing a second candidate for Gluttony. I was starting to think I would have to leave the series … Read More Read More
Top Six Prompts from the First Year Top Six Prompts from the First Year By Megan Cutler | July 10, 2017 | Comments 0 Comment On the thirty-first of July, 2015, I posted my first ever writing prompt. It kicked off a weekly tradition of taking time to write for myself, for fun, for practice and for personal development. Today I wrote prompt number ninety – hard to believe I’ve done that many! I’ve had a lot of fun responding … Read More Read More
Blood for the Dead Blood for the Dead By Megan Cutler | July 7, 2017 | Comments 0 Comment As I mentioned in my blog post on Monday, where I introduced Azmih and explained some of his history, I wrote this story for a class I took in college. The only requirements for the story was that it be less than ten pages and that it say something about the human condition. My teacher … Read More Read More
Servant of Death Servant of Death By Megan Cutler | July 3, 2017 | Comments 2 comments I’ve started writing more about Azmih, my lonely and mysterious Necromancer. He always seems popular when he pops up. Like Reianna, he’s a character that I keep coming back to, keep chipping away at, trying to find his final form. He has a story to tell, I’m just not sure what form it takes or … Read More Read More
He Crossed the Brittle Bridge of Bones He Crossed the Brittle Bridge of Bones By Megan Cutler | May 13, 2016 | Comments 0 Comment It was cold. Colder than the whipping winter winds atop the jagged peaks of the world’s highest mountain range. Colder than death. The chill did not touch him. But as Azmih watched, his companion jolted awake, shivering violently against the frigid air. His head whipped from side to side, long black hair smacking his neck … Read More Read More
They Return Every Year to Lay Flowers on the Spot They Return Every Year to Lay Flowers on the Spot By Megan Cutler | April 15, 2016 | Comments 1 comment The villagers returned every year to spread flowers across the bog. A riot of pinks and blues, purples and yellows, even shocks of pristine white sprinkled like snow for one glorious afternoon before they were left to wilt in the mud. Then they returned to their festivals and dances, their stories and feasts, hoping against … Read More Read More