Category: Sketch of Sam Monroe

The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 8.5 – The Good Divers Always Live

~ The adventure continues! Full Text ~ Previous Chapter The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 8.4 – Huaca The Sketch of Sam Monroe is a weird fiction thriller. Follow the adventures of five quirky Black Ops pharmacologists as they globetrot their way to…

The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 8.4 – Huaca

The adventure continues! Full Text ~ Previous Chapter The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 8.3 – As Wicked as the Wicked The Sketch of Sam Monroe is a weird fiction thriller. Follow the adventures of five quirky Black Ops pharmacologists as they globetrot…

Frontier Fiction ETC

  Frontiers seem to be dwindling. Which may be one of the reasons for some of the ennui that we see. I present some thoughts on the remaining frontiers and how they’re more accessible than we might imagine. Contact http://www.minds.com/Weirmellow mellow.mission.productions@gmail.com

The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 8.3 – As Wicked as the Wicked

The whole place had a bizarre sort of sentience. We filed down a path lined with gnarled roots and dense vegetation. The smell of damp earth pervaded humid air. Fireflies lent mystic luminescence to the primeval scene. Every now and then bits of stone,…

The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 8.2 – Sigil

    We continued as if a trail of corpses wasn’t piling in our wake. Thornton’s fatal call never came. Stateside communication was as mundane and technical as ever. Was there some glitch that made ‘Langley’ miss the HAG – I log? Our minds…

The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 8.1 – The Roots are Thirsty

Lucas was even less thrilled about waking earlier than early. He stumbled to the spook tent with all the enthusiasm of a snail approaching salt. It took what would otherwise have been a comically epochal span of time to realize the gravity of the…

The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 8.0 – Night Ops

‘As if we had a choice.’ I mused to myself as dawn tickled its way up my hammock pegs. The haze of sleep dissipated slowly. I wanted to lay there and sway forever in the sticky morn. My wish would not be granted. Cooks…