The stories of Bryan Young

Michael toed the fresh snow with his shoe, revealing the frozen black slush left from a week old storm. He pulled his jacket collar up over his bare neck and tried to look at nothing in particular. Trying desperately to keep the coral rose in his left hand from sight, he carried on, continuing his way down the street along the uneven, un-shoveled sidewalk. He left a dissipating trail of breath behind him as well as a long line of footprints in the snow. Every step brought him closer and closer to her house and further and further away from contentment. Shifting his grip on the flower, he caught a thorn on his index finger, drawing blood. The blood crept down, past his fingernail, the moisture inviting the cold to bite his finger. Such a bite as to cause Michael to wonder whose idea it was to give spring flowers to lovers in the middle of winter. It made little sense to him, but custom dictated his gift. Well , he thought, perhaps not so much custom as the inevitable smile th

I thought you guys might find this interesting. This is a pitch Elias and I wrote for Marvel's Thor. This would have been a cool mini-series. Maybe it still could be... One year ago Odin slumbered. All was well in the kingdom of Asgard. Although the citizens of Asgard respect their lords rule, during the Odinsleep, Asgardians carry on more freely and with less fear of respite; for when God sleeps, so sleeps his Godly expectations. And for the sons of this God, the same rings true. While one brother plots in the shadows, the other enjoys the tranquility and reminisces of days filled more with mischievous sibling rivalries and less with evil plots. And on some days, within the God of Evil still resides the God of Mischief. On this day at Odin’s stables mischief is afoot. The stable door splinters into a million pieces as Loki, astride Odin’s eight legged stallion Sleipnir, rides into the Asgardian countryside in a blaze of mischievous glory. He lets out an exaggerate