The party of urban explorers pushed onward, despite the obvious signs of habitation inside the abandoned brickworks.
And the obvious signs of past violence.
The contents of one of the kilns were especially unsettling.
Farming one of the skerries between Iceland and Greenland proved difficult for Gudleif and his family, but his steading was the only one on the island.
He succeeded in carving his first set of chessmen before the local volcanic activity became known.
“Just my luck,” the P.I. grunted. “I should’ve known I couldn’t trust you.”
As the elevator cable frayed, the ghost drifted over the gumshoe. A sudden draft from the shaft fluttered the holed sheet.
“You said you only wear black, but I think you’ll look fine in white.”
The Moon was different. The craters were erratically placed and other surface features appeared considerably more ruddy and discolored. However, causal eyes didn’t discern the considerable change in the stars. This was home now and we loved our new chunk of the cosmos.