And of course the rain hadn’t let up, Vivi groaned as she peeked out through the window of the taxi. If anything, it had become heavier, sheets of water dropping out of the sky. The whole world looked cloaked in blue, dripping like a whirling dervish got loose in a paint factory.
The taxi driver, perhaps sensing his client’s hesitance, turned to drape one hand back over the passenger seat. He frowned at her over his shoulder, his bushy black mustache twitching irritably on his face.
“Is the Metro Bank, yes?” he huffed. “Problem?” Continue reading
With apologies to Terry Pratchett.
I slammed down the empty beer glass, staring morosely at the suds sliding down its sides. “It’s no use,” I said aloud. “I love her, mate. For strewth.”
“Strewth,” echoed Davey, off to my side. “Trev, it can’t work, though. She’s in a whole other league, you know? She cheers for Dolly Sisters, an’ we’re born Dimwell fans. Hell, you know what they’d do to her if they saw someone like ‘er in our place, wearing those colors?”
“‘Course I do,” I snapped back at him. “But what am I supposed to do ’bout it? I love her, Davey. You don’t know what it’s like!” Continue reading
“Hail, good woman! Might I trouble you for directions?”
I jerked up in shock at the sound of the unexpected voice, and my pruning shears closed a centimeter from taking off the tip of my thumb. Cursing, I hauled myself up to my feet, dusting some of the dirt off of the knees of my old jeans.
I turned around to see who had spoken to me – and felt my mouth drop open as I stared up at him.
Them, perhaps I should say. Continue reading
The logs crackled, shifting slightly as they lost structural stability, slowly collapsing into coals. Sparks rose up in a long, slow spiral, up into the blackness of the sky.
I sat back, feeling the cold sand shift beneath the thin layer of the blanket. The blanket wasn’t enough to block that chill, but it kept the sand from clinging to my fingers, sticking to my skin.
The moment was soft, smooth, but filled with a curious sense of anticipation. I knew where that anticipation came from. It crackled between me and the girl beside me, like the wood crackled in the bonfire in front of us. Continue reading
Link to Part I.
Link to Part II.
This time, Elizabeth must have known that I was chasing her. Her trail got harder to follow; she even left Goldy behind at one point in a stable, selling her off to some no-good breeder that looked at her like a piece of damn meat.
Needless to say, I got my horse back.
But I kept on tracing her. Elizabeth. I couldn’t get her out of my head, couldn’t shake that tug of her. Every time I thought about giving up the chase, I just sensed her out there, and knew, somehow, she needed my help.
Damn woman led me all the way to Boston before I found her. Continue reading
Part I is here.
Took me two months to track her down. Would’ve gone faster, if she hadn’t stolen my damn horse.
Of course, that was what got her in the end. Horses are worth their weight in plat, these days. Hell, more than that. I’d gladly trade a king’s ransom in plat for another Goldy, although I wouldn’t mind if my next steed didn’t have quite the attitude problem. And maybe a little more loyalty, too.
But when I finally hauled my ass into the next little collection of broken-down shacks that someone decided to call a town, I asked around, and sure enough, they’d seen my horse. Continue reading
It certainly wasn’t love at first sight, I’ll tell you that much.
Hell, the first time I laid eyes on her, I wasn’t even sure that she was human. Always was good at disguises, she was. Bent over double, big robe hiding any sort of detail about her limbs, hauling that overloaded cart… well, I thought she might be one of them Minos, at first, not a real person.
Not that Minos can’t be good people. Met some great ones, fought alongside ’em, strong as Hell and twice as angry once they start seeing red, you know…
Anyway. Continue reading
I remember this feeling from the very first time that I got onto a rollercoaster. The train slowly made its way up the first, biggest hill, and I felt my stomach being left further and further behind. With each foot that we ratcheted along, I knew with more and more certainty that I’d made a massive mistake. I could see the drop-off, the disaster, growing closer-
-and I couldn’t do a thing about it.
Now, sitting in my bed and staring at my phone’s glowing screen in the darkness, I felt that same pit opening up in my stomach, that same sense of disaster.
“Oh, shit,” I murmured to myself. Then again, louder: “Shit! Shit!” Continue reading
I frowned down at the menu. “Breaded toast?” I read aloud.
The waiter, a skinny, animated little fellow who bounced around like he physically couldn’t stand still, smiled at me. Or rather, he flashed his teeth at me. It seemed almost like a rictus instead of a true smile.
“Indeed, sir. It’s available as a side dish with any item, or included with many of our entrees.”
“Yes, but… what is it?” I asked. “I mean, you can toast bread, but what’s breaded toast?” Continue reading
“Wow, uh, sculpture garden,” I said, trying not to let disappointment color my voice. “Yeah, this is fun.”
I glanced over at Meagan, wondering if she’d bought it. It was already our third date, and I still hadn’t worked out quite how I felt about her. Unable to make a decision, I eventually just threw up my hands and elected to base the future of our relationship on this third date.
I’d let her pick the location, and so far, I wasn’t particularly impressed.
Perhaps for the best, however, Meagan hadn’t caught my sarcasm. “Oh, it’s a really unique place,” she insisted. “The whole Kepler museum is amazing, but the Times Garden has always been my favorite.”
“Yeah, great,” I nodded, as she kept on prattling on about how much she loved the sculptures. I wondered if the museum had a food court. Continue reading