The Mezunian

<No way>. Autumn said it in a gasp as she peered inside the open window, having called out for someone & hearing no answer. She took a deep gulp & then climbed inside. She wandered thru all o’ the few rooms with her breath held & found no one inside. & yet she knew the […]

Despite how late in the evening ’twas, the sun blared as high as if ’twere the middle o’ the afternoon as Edgar parked into the FredMart driveway. They all sat in a dimness that only seemed to make the sunlight outside hurt Autumn’s eyes e’en mo’. Autumn sighed, & then took a chug o’ her […]

Their flag was silver, — a silver similar to the waxing-gibbous moon, hours early to its shift so it could catch the sky while ’twas still blue before the orange that was already creeping up from the horizon could steal it all, steering the purple tides — & emblazoned on that silver was a white […]

Autumn wanted to ask Dawn how she e’er convinced her to set up a detective agency till she remembered that she already knew how, having been there @ the time. Then she took a sip o’ her coffee. <This’ll get you out from under the smothers o’ your covers & using your calculator mind for […]

Tho Autumn didn’t dare let Edgar see it, she felt her breath catch up when she saw it come into view, & ’specially as she felt herself enter what seemed like a forcefield round it. Here she saw not just billions o’ tiny colored dots bunched together, giving off the flat illusion o’ a brick […]

2016 May 5: I decided to try writting a diary to help me be better @ expressing myself, which doesn’t look like it’s working well now cuz I keep having trouble thinking o what words to use. But that’s OK, sense I guess “custom makes calaber”, or howe’er that saying goes. Autumn did say that […]

She’d been thinking ’bout it for a while & decided that the gingerhaired thiefrat that Moneybags obsessed o’er would have to pay. She was thinking ’bout it while walking down Habanero Highway, which always reeked o’ gasoline on the desert afternoons, on a trip toward Verditropolis, which she was now thinking she’d have to postpone […]

“IN THE BELLY OF THE ANIMAL WHOSE DEMEANOR I DON’T QUITE ENJOY”, or “BOSK-FL5761-BELLY”, as it is abbreviated, is the seventh story of Boskeopolis Stories’s sixth season, and the 94th story overall, written by millenial Jupiterian crustacean J. J. W. Mezun. Autumn and Edgar are eaten by the white supremacist whale while searching Orange Ocean […]

Here I was: I found myself standing before the mouth o’ Osequus Cave, where legends say roams the great prophet, J. J. W. Mezun, who is said to have 1st discovered the obscure tales o’ Autumn Springer, the great thief o’ Boskeopoleon folklore. Tho I knew this was a prophet, like many, perennially drunk on […]