Bastian Espada
“What an absurd creature!” the disciple, a pebble, exclaimed.
“Indeed,” said the sensei— a pointy rock. “It spends its entire life fighting two fights: one to overcome entropy, and another one to convince itself that this is possible.”
— Bastian Espada
In the corner of an icy—tenebrous—prison cell, there’s an illuminated nook.
Within, a fuzzy, inquisitive critter enjoys the company of a tiny book.
“Squeak, squeak, squeak!”
It really seems to be having a grand old time.
— Bastian Espada
“Philosophy is lowkey useless.”
“Well I think that's a fascinating epistemological proposition. Tell me more.”
— Bastian Espada
Mama bear and her cub have been paddling for three days straight. Last year she swam three times that distance before she found solid ice.
The cub’s forelimbs seize. It growls, gargles and sinks.
Mama bear glances behind her, then keeps paddling.
— Bastian Espada
“So you wish for more dead children? More destruction? Endless misery? There is such a thing as sacrifices that must be made.”
“What I wish, my dear, is that humans weren’t so.”
— Bastian Espada
“And what’s the point of the world without me in it? When I die, feel free to burn the whole thing down.”
— Bastian Espada
“And here before you, is the brightest lamp in the world,” the guide murmured.
“Truly fascinating, why are we whispering though?” a man asked.
“The mightiest moth has good hearing.”
— Bastian Espada
“So would you rather have the last thing you see on this earth be an Excel spreadsheet? Or perhaps an endless row of cars stretching beyond your dashboard?”
“Nah, I’d rather it be the face of a trusted friend”
Both men smiled, held hands, then pulled the trigger at the same time.
— Bastian Espada
“Only I can save you from that other dude that convinced you that only he could save you!” the aspiring dictator said.
Everybody clapped.
— Bastian Espada
*Ding dong*
Trick or treat! She heard for the hundredth time that night.
The woman threw the half-finished bottle of whiskey on the couch and shambled towards the entrance. She grabbed the candy bowl from the foyer and opened the door.
Standing at her doorstep, was herself. The woman stared into her own eyes. She cried out, and hurled the red porcelain bowl at her face, shattering it in a burst of glass.
Little Edgar — who on that Halloween night had decided to dress up as a tall mirror — ended up receiving several stitches.
— Bastian Espada