The Seamstress and Her Moth
George sinned in Lanie’s purified lace. Now moths chew through his apologies, and her needle threads his pulse into something she finds more 'useful.'
This story owes its fangs to Ran Dandel’s short story The Sorceress’ Night Out on Fictionmania. Character Names have been retained as tribute. Thanks for the inspiration Dan!
| Part 1 | "Tell me, handsome—ever danced with a cursed garment?" | Read |
| Part 2 | "Fridays, you're Georgia. Corset optional. Crotchless mandatory." | Read |
| Part 3 | "Relax. He's week eight of part three. You're the fucking index." | Read |
| Special | Author's Reflections: Questions and Confessions | View Entry |
| Part 4 | "Kindness comes with an expiry date," | Read |
| Part 5 | "Best little wifey this side of the apocalypse—" | Read |
| Part 6 | "Y'know, we could multitask. Ruin her while we revisit history." | Read |
| Part 7 | "Peace smells like bleach and unwashed diapers, you know." | Read |
| Part 8 | "Pyres are for endings. We're middling types." | Read |
| Part 9 | "... flammable liquid, possibly draconic in origin..." | Read |
| Part 10 | "MY FIRST EDITION ISN'T A BAR MAT, YOU TWATWAFFLE—" | Read |
| Part 11 | "Fridays after 7 PM circled in your dragonfire hue gorgeous. Other nights? Unfortunately booked solid." | Read |
| Part 12 | "It's just your body's way of saying fuck you for existing. Welcome to womanhood. Population? Your ruined slacks." | Read |
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This story is 206 words long.
