| Microfiction: Currorg |
[Dec. 4th, 2009|08:13 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  hungry | ] |
Cheryl Veale had skin like blended latte and hair that shone like her eyes. And her eyes sparkled when she walked into the kitchen and saw the boiling pot, and sniffed.
"Curry," she said. "A lot of coriander in that powder, from the smell of it."
She leaned over the pot and sniffed again.
"Curried chicken," she said.
That was the last thing she ever said.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: The Three IT Workers |
[Dec. 3rd, 2009|07:22 pm] |
The tall, balding manager was berating a man in wearing an orange turtleneck and a blazer.
The pretty little man in the turtleneck shrugged, and took a sip from the soda bottle in which he had hidden a small quantity of gin while the balding manager talked.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Lateral Move |
[Nov. 12th, 2009|07:56 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  busy | ] |
Mint numbness pushed into Frank's knucklejoints like his hands were
only gristle and bone.
"Should have brought my gloves," he growled, reaching for the doorknob.
Though he'd never admit it, he watched his hand reaching out in order
to make sure it still had flesh on it. Frank glanced at his cigarette
hand for the same unacknowledged reason, tapping off ash.
The door opened onto a plumped white plain, flecks swirling in the wind.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Fen |
[Nov. 10th, 2009|07:25 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
As I stood in the snow looking at the half-covered corpse, I
remembered that the Neo-Nipponese believe that snow meanss the gods
are so filled with desire for the world, that there's a bukkake party
in Heaven.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Clover |
[Nov. 9th, 2009|06:37 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
Phil hated Metro newbies.
As he watched the woman fumble with her construction of magnetic tape and paper, he considered how much time he was losing.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Made of This |
[Nov. 5th, 2009|12:36 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  tired | ] |
The thing didn't quite blot out the sky, but it made a good stab at
it. And stab was the word, with its surfboard-sized black obsidian
blades and toddler-sized myrtle scales.
The missiles didn't seem to affect it, though they caused it to expel
a gas that smelled of soy sauce and raisins that made the explosions
appear periwinkle and mauve.
Steven Turner was glad that the missiles had little effect other than
to rock the thing, as he was busy climbing on it. The teardrop shape
had suggested something to him, and he was carefully climbing down a
thick, jagged cord that seemed to link the thing to the ground.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Processing |
[Nov. 4th, 2009|04:59 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
For a change, Casimir didn't mind it when his wireless connection slowed.
"Got you," he said, watching as the display on the back of his hand
triangulated the encoded packets inside the local splayband ecosystem.
The hand-coded GUI was minimalist, just an arrow and a popup where the
packet dump pit-pattered faster than Casimir's heartbeat.
His method for getting past the gunmetal-grey door that the lime green
arrow pointed out to him was old-fashioned. He pulled the display off
his hand and pocketed it before he exerted himself with the crowbar.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Retool |
[Nov. 2nd, 2009|05:44 pm] |
Mayor Pollux knew the Swarm was coming. He looked at the HUD projected in ghostly pinks and yellows on the wall and shook his head.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Digest-Sized Romeo and Juliet with Squids |
[Oct. 29th, 2009|08:44 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  random | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | "Marble House" by the Knife | ] |
Romeo and Juliet are from warring families.
Romeo and Juliet see each other at a party and fall in love, which makes things difficult for them. Sloppy makeouts make it better, almost.
After some death involving those close to them and some shouting about pox, Romeo and Juliet secretly fuck, because that's what you do to stave off the fear of death. Lots of pretty things are said, and very little is said about Juliet's belly expanding like a slowly loosening fist.
To escape marriage to a French city, Juliet contrives to escape by faking her own death with some designer roofies.
However, her messenger to Romeo is eaten by a squid, and thus, believing Juliet dead, Romeo fights a squid in a kung-fu battle in slow motion that ends with Romeo white, dead, and covered with red sucker marks like coffee rings on an old placemat.
When she wakes up, Juliet wails a lot, but subsequently gets over it and gets involved in some fan fiction with her nurse. |
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| Microfiction: Aphorism Crisscross Crisis Black |
[Oct. 28th, 2009|06:21 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | crazy | ] |
"Listen," said Lachlann. "I know we're thousands of light years from
Earth and our surgeon is dead."
"It wouldn't be a problem if the autodoc was at full capacity," repeated Selma.
"I know, I know," Lachlann said, cracking his knuckles. "But... You
know me. As an engineer, I've dabbled in a lot of things. Including
things that are supposed to be hard. Especially things that are
supposedly difficult."
Selma blinked and sniffled.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Predictably Meta |
[Oct. 27th, 2009|07:06 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
Joey stared at the screen and scowled.
"They say," he told the screen, "that if you have writer's block, you
write about writer's block."
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Cynical SF Story Concentrate |
[Oct. 27th, 2009|01:11 am] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
Zeke pushed the chrome-and-pleather lever on his time machine. The sun
hopped swiftly across the sky, whipping past his head, strobing light
and darkness, like a bad rave. His stomach roiled and he kept patting
his hair, trying to detect the wind that wasn't there, because he felt
like he was rushing headlong without actually moving.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Side Maths |
[Aug. 6th, 2009|06:08 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
Let J be a human female.
Let W be the perfect mystical hermaphrodite, attempting to assimilate all of humanity by viewing each human as a function and engaging in an alchemical convolution to destroy itself and any given person (such as J) to result in a new W -- W' if you prefer -- that incorporates the best of all humans that have been assimilated up to that point.
So far, each version of W or W' or W'' or whatever smelled of your favorite childhood meal and frustrated mereological essentialism.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Maths |
[Aug. 5th, 2009|06:18 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
I will explain, child.
Let X be a human male. Let Y be a human female. Let Z be another human male.
X loved Y.
Z loved Y. Z was also more handsome and rich than X.
But Y considered X to be "sweet", so she had trouble deciding between X and Z, and X's attempts to give up Y in favor of Z only endeared Y toward X even more.
Let X be a mathematician and an occultist of the Pythagorean mold, with wide eyes and a scent not unlike a permanent marker.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Salty Sweet |
[Aug. 4th, 2009|05:44 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
Hal swaggered into the cubical. His shoulders were broad enough that he had to turn a little to enter.
No one else was in the cube. The beige fabric walls were bare, except for a single post-it with a phone number doodled on it.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Truce Sinister |
[Jul. 31st, 2009|07:01 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | tired | ] |
"Hello," whispered the voice, without inflection.
Jon blinked and looked around. The apartment was cluttered with half-open boxes, but no one else was there. He'd turned off everything electronic as the hums had aggravated his headache, so it wasn't the TV or the laptop.
"Hello," whispered the voice. It was exactly the same, like a recording, but... No hum, no white noise or background sound.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Paved |
[Jul. 30th, 2009|06:19 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  annoyed | ] |
The box was squat and black and angular, with CITY PAPER painted in white on the side. The font was cleverly kerned.
The man walking past the box was a lot less squat, and his skin and eyes and hair seemed to be the same shade of brown as his suit, with just a tiny difference between all four colors. The hair was shiniest.
The man glanced down and saw the woman's face pushing against the inside window of the box. The face was pale and framed by cloud-white dreadlocks. The transparent plastic between the man and the face reflected his shoes.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: New Girl |
[Jul. 29th, 2009|06:40 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  exhausted | ] |
Cheryl turned when she heard a strange shuffling noise behind her.
The man was blocking the entrance to the cubicle. He seemed to tower despite being shorter than Cheryl. He was squat and pale and he scowled, and she could smell the grease in his hair.
"You," he said, drawling. "You and your pert breasts and skyblue eyes and short, professional haircut..."
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Linnaean |
[Jul. 28th, 2009|05:44 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
Dr. Austin Corbin sat and concentrated only on his breathing, in through his nose and out through his mouth. His eyes were closed, and his universe existed only in that moment, air sliding cold through his nostrils and warm out his mouth, the lips still somewhat cool in the air-conditioned room.
Just as Dr. Corbin finished breathing out, the eternal moment ended with a sharp pressure on his left shoulder.
He opened his eyes and looked to his left, seeing a short, stocky man with even, brown skin and strangely bland features, though the man's utter lack of hair, including eyebrows, made him stand out.
"Are you Dr. Corbin?" asked the man.
Corbin stood up, towering a full foot above the other man.
Corbin said, "Yes. And you are the extra-terrestrial intelligence that emailed the IETI project?"
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Washington with Pterodactyls |
[Jun. 26th, 2009|04:26 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  anxious | ] |
As I stepped out the door of the apartment, carefully adjusting my slicker, a brown-white glop fell on my shoulder.
I looked up and saw a flock of nemis, mostly males resplendent in their summer mating hair, silver and copper and alabaster, in hypnotic striped patterns. There were some bare patches on some of the wings, which fit with the mange epidemic I'd be reading about.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Pattern |
[Jun. 25th, 2009|04:44 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | tired | ] |
I felt particularly racist that morning, which was making it difficult to concentrate.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Ecology |
[Jun. 24th, 2009|05:04 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | crazy | ] |
We were playing Monopoly by moonlight and candles when it started.
I was winning, and I had my favorite piece, the shoe. To my left was the thimble's player, Margaret, shaped like a luscious pear and about as hairless, and across from me was the wheelbarrow's player, Gail, with skin the color of good shoe leather and lips that always shone, even without lipstick. At my right and several inches shorter than me even when sitting down was Gene, who was paying more attention to the ladies and less attention to the game than I was, though he had loudly insisted on the racecar.
I was moving the shoe onto Park Place, which would have allowed me to complete another set of properties, when Gene went pale, and started muttering about what an utter waste of time this was.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Surflection |
[Jun. 23rd, 2009|07:06 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | exhausted | ] |
The Metro car was mostly empty. Closest to me was a woman on the tail end of her thirties, who kept making these tiny wet sounds with her mouth that made it impossible for me to read.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Misfiring Nailgun |
[Jun. 22nd, 2009|07:19 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | exhausted | ] |
I reached out to shake his hand. It looked like a piece of deer meat that had been in laid out for a day on a desert plateau.
I looked around the room. The leather in the chair I hovered over, or the matching couch he sat on, looked only slighly better than him. Slightly less wrinkled. There was nothing else in the room, not even a table.
But the grip was firm, and though the face matched the hand yet with gunmetal grey frizz added, the eyes were clear and the color of acorns.
( Read more... ) |
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| By The Way... |
[Jun. 22nd, 2009|07:17 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic, random | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  optimistic | ] |
I finally went back and gave titles to all the microficion for this year that didn't have one. Opinions welcome. |
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| Microfiction: Scape |
[Jun. 18th, 2009|04:34 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  lazy | ] |
Rust showed through the white paint on the bars, but they were still much too thick to break, with cores uncorrupted and unbending.
More of a problem was what remained of the shelf that had once served as a bed, now a collection of moss, russet shards, and spiders fat with eggs that Elijah squatted next to.
Elijah himself was a sort of collection. In his case, he seemed to be a pile of sharp joints, skin the color of sun-faded chocolate, and hair so white and bristly it could have been used in a toothbrush.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Know Dualism |
[Jun. 17th, 2009|04:53 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | lazy | ] |
It took a little while after waking for Vincent to realize something was wrong.
He woke quickly, and could feel the blood pulsing in every vein, full to nearly bursting. It felt gorgeous, like he'd been running all-out and the endorphins had kicked in.
Vincent spent several minutes just enjoying the feeling of being awake, before he tried to slick back his hair.
And discovered he had hooves.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: U 1.794 |
[Jun. 16th, 2009|03:56 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | crazy | ] |
The professor was short, with ears like mug handles and a mustache like moss on an overhanging rock.
He wrote with an orange dry-erase marker and smiled at the students as they came in. He even smiled at the tall, unclothed young gentleman with an old-fashioned Colt pistol in his right hand.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Twenty Acres of Decision |
[Jun. 11th, 2009|07:48 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
Theodore Blank wafted up to the counter of the 7-11. He looked like pale coils of ethernet cabling bundled with wrinkled burlap.
He put $200 on the counter, all for lottery tickets, minus one travel pack of Kleenex.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Nineteen's Ascension |
[Jun. 3rd, 2009|06:11 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
When Mrs. Farber looked at the plus sign on the home pregnancy test, already deciding to make a doctor's appointment, she said: "Fuck it, we'll just name it Nineteen."
( Read more... ) |
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| (Microfiction) Wretched Excess: Age 18 |
[Jun. 1st, 2009|04:47 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  sleepy | ] |
On the fifth day of the experiment, Joe Manning started to hallucinate.
Manning wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the discipline. Remaining
intoxicated continually, without alcohol poisoning, required a very
careful regime.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Discovery on Day 17 |
[May. 29th, 2009|06:04 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
Day 11. Exhausted. Tired of hauling stone after goddamn stone. This deep, half the time, the stone crumbles, sprinkling a fine green powder that reminds me of green sugar, like you'd get in Pixy Stix.
Boss has returned from back surgery. Not using enough medication made him grumpy. He doesn't exactly yell, but it's like he's disappointed in all of us. Reminds us of procedure, especially ones we've never heard of.
He's always covered in the green powder, even though he isn't hauling any rocks.
( Day 12 ) |
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| Microfiction: Sacrifice in Sixteen Minutes |
[May. 28th, 2009|04:02 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
Pay attention, kiddies. There will be a quiz at the end.
Two men in a room alone, and the nearly subsonic trill of an air
conditioner. Only one door, of solid oak. A table and two chairs, one
man per chair. A camera in one corner, wired into the wall and angled so
it could see both men. Notably, the camera had certain disconnected
wires that attested to its lack of audio capacity.
The private surrender talks had gone on for fifteen minutes, but the
President of the United States of America would not budge.
"America believes -- even unto death -- in the principles of
representative democracy," said the President. "We will not capitulate
to a foreign power, one that does not represent our people. Period. End
stop. End of discussion."
He stood up, but the other man put out a hand. Even the air conditioner
paused.
"Wait," said the Canadian Prime Minister, placing a finely-tooled pistol
on the table, angular and black and aggressively unmarked to the point
of being nearly iconic.
"I'll make you an offer," said the Prime Minister. "If you shoot
yourself in the head... I'll consider myself outvoted. I'll call off the
invasion, and I'll get the Mexicans to stop as well."
The President sat back down.
He picked up the gun, and felt its heft. Then, he placed it in his
mouth, angled the gun upward, and slowly squeezed the trigger.
( MULTIPLE CHOICE ENDING ) |
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| Microfiction: Forbidden Love at Fifteen |
[May. 22nd, 2009|05:00 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | crazy | ] |
At fifteen years of age, Rob Adams declared his undying and, most
importantly, physical as well as metaphysical love for his
limited edition vinyl copy of the album "Hopes and Fears" by the British
piano rock band Keane.
He was not ashamed of his love, and was seen by his schoolmates "making
out" with the record, vigorously wriggling his peach-pink tongue in the
album's spindle hole.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Fourteen-Love |
[May. 21st, 2009|05:58 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
It was her eyes that always got him. Slightly pinched, always a little watery, and the same color as the unglazed mug she always carried around.
"I love you, Fourteen," he said, taking her empty hand.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Maturation at 13 |
[May. 20th, 2009|05:35 pm] |
The man was wrinkled yet pink, like someone had left him in the bathtub
for too long. A smeared rectangle of fuzz was wrapped around his
shoulders, and he was leaning on a crooked, warty tube of wood.
Jonny watched the man through the window while he blew on the candles,
counting them as he blew. One, two, three, four...
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: A Dozen Transformations |
[May. 19th, 2009|06:00 pm] |
1. His mother told him she wasn't angry, but disappointed. Dave barely
understood, but his perspective shifted and twisted, and
he saw things as she did for an infinite breath that he remembered until
puberty. He threw up, all acid and sugar, and hated himself for it.
2. Helen Peterson was bending over in the hoop skirt she was wearing for
choir. Dave looked, mugging with double exaggeration so his friends
would see and laugh... But the genial curve -- the flip shape -- made
him step back and forth in his robes, and he never looked at Helen
without flushing again.
( 3. ) |
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| Microfiction: The Ten Temptations of the Kitty Christ |
[Apr. 28th, 2009|10:57 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Fucking Boyfriend (Peaches Remix) -- The Bird and the Bee | ] |
And while He was alone in the wilderness, Lucy, the Cat of the Morning, came before Kitty Christ to tempt Him to join her in her rebellion against the One God, Jayvah, Lord of the Purring Hosts.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Underdog #9 |
[Apr. 28th, 2009|10:55 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  awake | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Blue Jeans -- Ladytron | ] |
The Champion was undefeated. He was a solid seven feet tall, muscled and round from time on a high gravity world. His skin was the color of tar left for a day in the sun, and his teeth and eyes contrasted brightly. So long as he was the last man standing, he would be allowed to breed with the Queen in as brutal or as gentle a manner as he liked.
"Another underdog enters the ring," rang out the announcer with a voice that, even from the orbiting speakers, sounded like a barker from a carnival at the dawn of Man. "Will he defeat the Champion and replace him? Or will he join the eight men who went before him? With fifteen hours left in the endurance trial, it’s anyone’s game…"
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Rivalry of the Eighth Age |
[Apr. 28th, 2009|10:51 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  full | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Is It Medicine -- The Knife | ] |
In the Seventh Age of Man, it came to pass that two men fell in love with the same woman.
This was an unusual thing in the Seventh Age, as most men not only had more than enough women to choose from, but they often chose each other, in greater proportion than in the Sixth Age.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Riddle of the Seven Seas, 2007 |
[Apr. 23rd, 2009|06:25 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | crazy | ] |
Captain Clark's ship put the "tramp" in "tramp-tanker". The MV Duodenum,
named on a bet and having been in service for over forty years, was long
overdue for scrapping, and it looked it. Its paint was not so much
peeling as the hanging strips made it look like a giant Brillo pad from
a distance, and it lay in the water in an uneasy way that was tough to
put your finger on, like it was going to sink any minute.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Six-Meter Revenge |
[Apr. 22nd, 2009|06:19 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
Matt stood, scowling and eyes narrowed, while police officers with jaws
like parallelograms walked out of his apartment with his desktop, his
laptop, even his cell phone... Each item in the white file-sized box
labeled with Sharpie, no matter how small the actual object was.
The officer in charge stood next to Matt the whole time. His name tag
read simply "Lorenzo". His expression was almost identical to Matt's,
only it was directed at the man standing next to him rather than the
other officers. Lorenzo's face was older and had had a longer amount of
time between shaves, which meant the lines from the scowling showed even
more clearly and deeply on his face.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Fifth Escape Attempt |
[Apr. 21st, 2009|07:22 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
Since his fourth escape attempt, Simon had been confined to the smallest, worst cell.
There was an uncovered toilet, and a shelf for sleeping, and just enough room for those features inside the cage of criss-crossed iron, a bubble of metal against a single wall. A dancing line of raw sewage skittered down the wall, waxing and waning with the water use in the prison.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Quad Rescue |
[Apr. 20th, 2009|04:57 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  insane | ] |
Harry felt actively queasy when he entered the room. He leaned against the wall, and made a queer hiccupping noise as his whole body undulated with dry heaves.
The room was lit by a single lightbulb, a bare compact fluorescent on a chain that had actually been in place long enough to yellow somewhat. When one looked up, one saw the ceiling was mirrored, and Harry only briefly noted his unshaven face. In one corner was an ancient mattress without sheets, the flower pattern obscured by dirt somewhat. There seemed to be flies on every surface, and yet none in the air, like the insects were too lethargic to take flight.
But that isn't what made him heave.
( WARNING: Nastiness ahead. ) |
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| Microfiction: Third Planet Pursuit |
[Apr. 17th, 2009|04:05 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  bored | ] |
Wayne crouched on the cast aluminum platform that he had attached to the
tree only a few minutes before, settling down on the seat, which was
perhaps a little too large for him. His fellow hunters had mocked him
for carrying the thing into the field, but he found it a much more
comfortable way to prepare an ambush.
He glanced at the tree next to the one he was in, so close that it was
nearly growing into the tree that Wayne was in, but just far enough
apart to be distinct. A squirrel twitched into a hole, shaking a branch
slightly.
Wayne checked pulleys on the bow hanging from the platform, and made
sure the wasabi-green paste was evenly spread on the tips of the arrows
in the quiver slung on the other side. The bow smelled of lithium grease
and the salt bite of his own sweat.
The air itself had that overly-crisp, organic-yet-chemical smell that
you only got inside a forest under a geodesic dome with air
conditioning. Through the triangular shapes of the dome, the sunlight
was distant yet warmer than normal.
Then Wayne looked back down.
( The skuk twirled into view... ) |
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xiombarg's journal