My recent break from the blog has given me time to reflect on my unsustainable tendency to publish zine-length posts—by which I mean anything over 18 pages of letter-sized text—one after another. As stated, this is not sustainable in the long run and leads to subpar content.
So, going forward, I’ll publish just one zine-length post per month, scheduled for the final week. I’ll take the time to make it shine. In the meantime, I’ll be sharing shorter content, like this first installment of a new recurring column: Oddities on Parade, inspired by Kobold Press blog’s Collection of Curiosities column. Each entry will showcase 12 very strange things, usually tied to a common theme and always rooted in the strange soil of the Feengrenze.
I hope you enjoy this first collection:
Inside the Unobservatory
A 12 oddities Found Where Nothing Can Be Observed
Deep beneath the arcane stacks of the Coláiste Draoidheil lies the Unobservatory: a 20-by-20-foot research chamber built (if it was ever built at all) to study the unobservable by submerging researchers and phenomena in mutual unobservability. No one quite remembers how it works. Or when. Or why. It’s always been there. Or hasn’t. Regardless, strange things sometimes come out.
Here are twelve such things recently cataloged by the College’s Department of Paradoxical Containment and Theoretical Furniture.
- A pizza box from Denino’s Pizza.
Still warm. Several slices are missing. The toppings include peppers, onions, and an unidentified meat not listed on any known menu. The delivery slip simply reads: “For Whomever Is.” - Junior Professor Jay C. Wellington.
Appeared unannounced and in the middle of an experiment. Strikingly resembles archival photos of a younger Senior Professor Jay C. Wellington—who, at the time of emergence, was giving a lecture in Calliope Hall. Both insist they are the real one. Neither remembers applying for tenure. - A letter addressed to the holder, in their own handwriting.
The date is five days in the future. The letter answers a question the reader has not yet thought to ask. Attempts to destroy it merely result in its reappearance—increasingly odd places include an apple core, a goat’s dream, and once, mid-dissection inside a frog. - A brass key with a tarnished tag.
The tag reads: “Staircase to the 8th Floor.” This would be useful, except the university only has three floors—and always has. Probably. - A thesis paper.
Author: Mx. Liza Coil. Student ID: doesn’t exist. Enrollment: never happened. City census: absent. Kingdom records: nonexistent. Reading the thesis produces spontaneous tap-dancing and mild epistemological vertigo. - A sudden and unshakeable certainty
—that you are on the verge of discovering the mechanism to turn lead into parrots. Side effects include uncontrollable squawking, bright plumage, and the occasional burst of pirate slang. - A sapient, ambulatory daydream.
Of being a questing knight. Exudes chivalric energy. Casual exposure results in random acts of courtly love, declarations of honor, and inappropriate jousting behavior. Will refer to any authority figure as “My Liege.” - A tiny pig-drawn tour wagon.
The wagon is occupied by six pixies wearing sunglasses, Hawaiian shirts, and spa robes. They ask for directions to “Slanach Town, mate, preferably with brunch.” The pig seems unaware it is indoors. - A tabby cat named Schrödinger.
Collar reads: “Schrödinger – Beholden to None.” Alternates between alive and dead when unobserved. Collapses its state upon direct observation. Attempts to photograph it result in the camera deleting itself. - A first edition of Dread Necromancy for Dummies.
Published by Gravelroot Academic Press, located on Ashbone Lane, a street that does not exist. The table of contents is alphabetized, except for the last entry, “Your Soul, p. ∞.” - Today’s copy of the Sliberberg Sentinel.
Front-page headline: “Giant Talking Ants Seize Parliament!” This is in stark contrast to the edition sold at the university gate, which features a harmless puff piece on fairy-bread pricing. Investigations are ongoing. - A door.
It leads to another Unobservatory. That room contains another door. That door leads to another Unobservatory. Somewhere, someone is still walking through them. Possibly you.



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