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Late one afternoon, after two and a half days of traversing the tricky, narrowing, and ever colder path through the mountain range, the pamoldin stop abruptly and begin to make a sort of whining sound. Bursting through the cliffside, in front of them, blocking their path, stands something unnatural and gleaming in the sun. As the dust settles the voyagers see the figure of something like a huge wagon – its metallic wheels already moving the giant crate of its body toward them, crushing the rocks before it into dust. Dan attempts a spell while Barry draws his sword. Cecilia braces for battle while Eugene begins scanning the monster. “There! At the top.” Eugene gestures to a translucent green dome with multicoloured stars somehow contained within it. Before anyone can react, Cyril runs toward the thing with daggers drawn. “No! Wait!” Barry exclaims. But it’s too late. Cyril climbs the slow-moving wagon thing and wedges a dagger between the dome and the main shell. At the same time, it makes a piercing screech and launches something that explodes in front of the rest of the travellers. The stars beneath the dome blink out as pressure escapes from it and the thing, itself grinds to a sudden halt. “I did it! I got it!” yells Cyril. Eugene and Dan join in the chorus, but Cecilia and Karen remain silently focused on Barry, lifeless on the ground; the only one caught in the explosion.

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Chris Carlier regina, Saskatchewan

I make short songs for doing dishes or walking the dog or riding the bus. Sometimes it sounds like the smell of the ground after it rains in autumn. Sometimes it sounds like a long summer drive with the windows down.

Sometimes I make music for film/TV/games/radio. Sometimes I make music for patrons.

Most of the time I'm drinking coffee.
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