1. “We had one rule. One rule. Don’t go into the forest! I told you bad things would happen in the forest!” The witch wiped the werewolf slobber off her shawl with a grimace and pointed in the general direction of the village. “Go. Home.”
2. The sidewalk abruptly ends, the clean crisp line of the final concrete square at odds with the sandy soil and clumps of stubborn weeds.
3. Kites and dragons both dance in the summer winds of the resort planet. The low gravity is kind on the crews’ space-born bones and they revel in the chance to stretch their wings.
4. Thin rusted scars feather out from the impact point. Over the years the cracks in the enamel have widened into fractile crazing giving the whole surface a lacy haze.
5. She bolts the helmet to her shoulders with ease of long practice– the mask has five filters and is as heavy as her breastplate.