“Just before noon one sunny summer’s day, three bears were returning home from their morning wander. They lived in a sturdy wooden cabin, unpretentious and rustic. Approaching the house he’d built with his own paws, Daddy Bear felt a sense of satisfaction. The residence blended in with the forest rather than standing out from it. All the construction materials had been ethically sourced. The wood came from trees felled by storms. A thick layer of turf on the roof provided insulation in winter and kept the cabin cool in summer. In addition to being practical, the turf looked pretty. Its grass sprouted straight up like hair jutting from a mythic head. A little too big to be quaint, yet a little too small to be showoffish, the house was just right. And just right was the way Daddy Bear liked things.” PhilosophyCompassionHumourBearsShort StoryAnimalsConservationFablesFolkloreNovelette Book:The Cabin Incident Source: The Cabin Incident
“The Devil has all the best tunes? My arse! Metalville just got a new sheriff.” MusicDevilHeavy MetalRockMark RiceMetallic Dreams Book:Metallic Dreams Source: Metallic Dreams
“Dying is the fastest route to fame for an aspiring rock star. The dead man’s melodies become profound, acquiring mystery and rising into a realm beyond the reach of human criticism. In the stopping of a heartbeat, the rocker is transformed from decadent hedonist into misunderstood genius. Aye, death and musical stardom go together like Scotland and rain.” DeathMusicFameImmortalityMark RiceMetallic Dreams Book:Metallic Dreams Source: Metallic Dreams
“Things began to go wrong when I was seventeen. My band’s twenty-year-old lead guitarist earned seven years in jail for a drug-fuelled spree of violence. The other band members were quick to let go of their musical dreams, but I never did. They did the ‘mature’ thing: after writing off the band as a teenage fantasy, they got real jobs and made some money. They called it growing up. I called it giving up.” FantasyViolenceDreamsGuitarDrugsTeenageRock MusicHeavy MetalBandsMark RiceMetallic Dreams Book:Metallic Dreams Source: Metallic Dreams
“I lay in bed that night, a first-time drunkard at seven years of age, pondering the punishment I knew would arrive on callused palms. In the forest, as if sensing my plight, wolves howled nocturnal laments. The magnificent lunar lullabies of my lupine brethren wooed me into a deep and cleansing sleep.” SleepAlcoholPunishmentWolvesHeavy MetalMark RiceMetallic Dreams Book:Metallic Dreams Source: Metallic Dreams