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Bradford Windley

fiction

A Contest, of Sorts

“What did you say?” “Well, what I said precisely is not so important as that you understood I was in disagreement.” “Repeat it,” “Repeat what?” “What you said to me.” “What would that accomplish?” “Do we need to take this outside?” “I suppose we could, but to what end? Violence perhaps? What would that prove? […]Read Post ›

Memoirs of an Exile, 2

Initiating Translation of Water Echoes: Humans are an irony. It is strange to think that intelligent complex life developed on sol-three’s arid terrain rather than the available aquatic environment. Not only does water account for the larger portion of the planet’s surface area–especially when taking into account the available habitat in volume afforded by water’s viscosity–it also […]Read Post ›

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