tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373865772011-04-21T14:50:09.790-04:00the storyblog of a handsome speculative fiction writerRaoul Wainscotinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04864747318647432737noreply@blogger.comBlogger41100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37386577.post-82584940756214224872007-01-09T19:21:00.000-05:002007-01-09T19:28:46.512-05:00

Deep beneath the earth, the Malevolence shifted. The Timeless Evil's slumber was disturbed. Trapped for so long a time, it was weakened, tired. The Formless One sent forth a tentative probe, extending itself towards the noise, the vibration. It recoiled at the sensation of the seal above. But this time something was different.The workman swung the sledge once more. The weakened rock gave

Raoul Wainscotinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04864747318647432737noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37386577.post-3869254777995035132006-11-29T19:47:00.000-05:002006-11-29T19:48:33.846-05:00

Catherine flew up the steps to grandmother's apartment. Not literally. Not in the this outfit, she thought. The delicate blouse, modest slacks, and short heels hindered her motion. But she rushed anyway. The scribbled phone message on her newsroom desk conveyed subtle urgency, and grandmother had not been well of late. A short taxi ride and ten flights of stairs were now behind her."Hi,

Raoul Wainscotinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04864747318647432737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37386577.post-38985675904439237552006-11-11T11:25:00.000-05:002006-11-11T11:35:48.242-05:00

The boy relaxed on the grass under the clear, warm sky. The farmhouse behind him might have been a million miles away. The boy's turkey, safe in the wooden pen alongside him, strutted about, inspecting its domain.Down the gently sloped field of grass, the boy saw a spark of light appear in midair. The spark grew. The boy cocked his head to one side and watched as the light grew into a tall,

Raoul Wainscotinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04864747318647432737noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37386577.post-91237730751193330232006-11-11T11:23:00.000-05:002006-11-11T11:35:32.849-05:00

"I still think you should have gone with my guy," the realtor rasped as she turned away to inhale a smokey breath from her cigarette."The advice was to find our own inspector. Independent. He comes highly recommended. Right, dear?" The wife beamed as she hugged her husband."That's right, dearest," her husband agreed, snuggling closer to her in the cool autumn air. The couple eyed their

Raoul Wainscotinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04864747318647432737noreply@blogger.com