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  1. Rec *

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    It was beginning to sound like Roderick Burgess had something or someone trapped in his basement.

    Hob was starting to wonder if he should do something about that.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    6,157
    Chapters:
    4/4
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    12
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    349
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    22 Oct 2026

  2. Rec *

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    In one hand he’s got a knife--the kind all the students keep to sharpen their nibs and carve their names wherever it’s the most pain in the ass to sand them out--but that’s not what’s got everybody frozen, because in his other hand the poor mad kid is holding all his beads.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    7,804
    Chapters:
    1/1
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    1
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    70
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    502
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    169
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    22 Oct 2026

  3. Rec 69

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    It had started because Hob had a bit of a thing. That was reasonable, he thought. You couldn’t live for six greedy centuries and counting without accumulating a few things. Exhibitionism (fourteenth through seventeenth centuries, naturally); corsets and heels (eighteenth century); goths (late twentieth century). And so on. Perfectly normal.

    But this, this was the oldest Thing. His ancient Stonehenge of a Thing. His perfectly-preserved bog body of a Thing. If he was the oldest human, then this was the longest-lived Thing. It was dry-aged, cask-aged, new-aged. It was underpainted with mysterious fluids and had provenance papers that would make the men at Sotheby’s blush and adjust themselves at their desks. It was worn as soft as the Shroud of Turin, and as wrinkled and delicious as a new Judean date from a resurrected 2,000-year-old seed. It was the leitmotif of all his lust and desire. If the British Museum ever did an exhibition on the history of Things, they would steal it and put it on display.

    Or, a short and silly story about husbands: one newly human, and one with a very old kink.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    1,174
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    35
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    574
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    69
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    2,559

    22 Oct 2026

  4. Rec *

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    One day, in spring, he comes to the Inn.

    Hob looks up and he’s there, and the relief is blinding. He thinks tu m’as manqué, fuck, because you were missing from me feels more true than I missed you ever has. English missing was ruined for him the moment he learned the French way of it. Longing is meant to be a reflexive verb.

    It would be a bad faith translation, even for him. He tells himself this is why he doesn’t say it.

    He thinks at last, and that’s a doable one. So he smiles, says, “You’re late.”

    Translated into Chinese by the brilliant Ethiseth: 翻譯之死

    Language:
    English
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    1/1
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    557
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    22 Oct 2026

  5. Rec *

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    “Do you think people can change?” asks Hob.

    June 7, 1989.
    Hob has gone to drown his sorrows after his friend didn't show up at The White Horse. The Corinthian has come to London to see Hob's friend. They find each other entirely by accident, and get along like a house on fire*, which is to say: fast, hot, and causing property damage.

    *You might imagine a specific a house. A mansion, if you will.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    8,628
    Chapters:
    3/3
    Comments:
    170
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    548
    Bookmarks:
    127
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    3,763

    22 Oct 2026