Lovga Keiser

“The Eyes of Ignorance” by Lovga Keiser

Submitted to Contest #188

Past a field of Lollypocks, through a barren-leaf forest, under a festering mother tree, and between the red gates. A short trip. Our world and the veil was rife with all sorts of creatures, a malignant sprite to your left, a whispering fae to your right, an ugly abomination throughout, there was no escaping the interactions that would be made but I could do my...

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“The Memoir of The Forgotten” by Lovga Keiser

Submitted to Contest #187

Leaving Mr. Kephu’s shop of unextraordinary capes and cloaks by 58th and the gateway wall, I spotted the prints of a shadow trotting atop the marble fence enclosing the District of Magic. Incredibly, the shadow was on the fence. Not off to the side, neither above it nor below it. Quite impossible. It wasn’t often mages were given a chance to ascend the societal ladder, a discovery of magical importance here or there and suddenly, the towering walls separating the Academy of Berryben and yourself shrink. ...

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“You Were Always Green” by Lovga Keiser

Submitted to Contest #186

“Green is such a beautiful color.” “It's not green. It's viridian.” “Oh, arguably the same hue.” “Green is an ugly word for an ugly color. Viridian has punch.” “Well, they all work the same, blue, red, orange. They all do their duty.”

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“Hungover” by Lovga Keiser

Submitted to Contest #185

He was hungover. That was the human word, hungover. He had never taken a sip of alcohol in his life. Not beer or wine or liquor or whatever other concoction of inebriating drink a human could brew. But he was still hungover because that’s the only feeling it could have been, hungover. A thief had told him once, what “hungover” was. It feels like your skull has been cracked open and a torch was s...

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“The Button” by Lovga Keiser

Rose first pressed the button when she was six. The next day, Ana, the seven year old girl who tripped Rose, disappeared. Rose did not know where Ana had gone, but she was happy that she was no longer around. Rose, thirteen now, pressed the button once more after her teacher gave her an F on a project she worked extensively on. The next day, there was no Ms. Crambell, in fact, Ms. Crambell had never taught the eighth gr...

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