Tales from the Boer’s Head

I wasn’t sure what to post here first.

A grand introduction felt a little too formal, and a pitch for my work felt… premature. So I figured I’d just invite you to sit for a while. The fire’s low, the ink’s still wet, and the stew’s… well, let’s just say it’s edible. Just don’t ask what’s in it.

This place, the Boer’s Head, isn’t loud. It doesn’t beg for attention. It’s the kind of place people find when they’re looking for something they can’t name, and maybe shouldn’t.

If you decide to stick around, you’ll find stories here. Some new. Some old. Some that probably should’ve stayed buried.

I won’t promise a regular schedule or weekly updates. I’m not wired like that. But when something’s ready, truly ready, you’ll find it waiting here. On a shelf, in a jar, or whispered from a dark corner.

Until then, enjoy your stay. Get a room early if you’re planning to spend the night.
Albert Grin makes his rounds after the witching hour, and he’s not picky about leftovers.

~

P.H. Boer
Innkeeper, ink-slinger, part-time meat stew critic