Kissmequick
loony
So,we've all had our pressies. Now it's time to post a few excerpts and see if you can guess who wrote what. There's one from everyone, including me.
ETA: List of contributors
Me
Alchemist
Mouse
Glitterspeck
Tactical Loco
Victoria Silverwolf
Hope
Phyrebat
Ratsy
Dusty Zebra
Allmywire
Springs
Hex
Annnnd GO!
1
LOVE HAS PITCHED HIS MANSION
[FONT="] [/FONT]
Martin waited in his quiet, immaculate apartment for the escort to arrive. He had shaved with unscented depilatory, showered, brushed his teeth, and swallowed two of the pink tablets that were guaranteed to prevent all unpleasant body odors. Just to be on the safe side, he swallowed another. It tasted like roses.
Brief Encounters LLC was one of the most expensive escort agencies in the Air. Martin had studied it carefully for weeks, first anonymously, then as a prospective client. At last he described his desired companion to the agency’s AI and transferred the necessary funds, protected at all times by the icy blue walls of Air security.
The apartment chimed softly to announce the arrival of a visitor. Martin rose from the couch and activated the viewer. The door faded to blurred translucency. Beyond the soft mist stood the escort. Young, tall, with skin the color of gold dust and short black hair. Shirt and trousers shone in soft pastels of silk, or a good imitation. Unlike most persons facing a one-way viewer, the escort showed no sign of self-consciousness. Deep brown eyes seemed to look directly at Martin, as if the door were reversed.
2
The Collier’s Grove
Like a choir of wobbling drunkards, the buildings of Malukgrad leaned one against another, each held upright only by the embrace of the next. Their upper levels loomed toward the jetties of the buildings opposite, in places nearly kissing, though crudely so. In the shadows below the jetties, Nadia pushed her curls behind her ears. With her linen sleeve, she wiped sweat from her brow. The wheel of her barrow had caught in a rut, and she would have to pull now, instead of pushing. Nadia pivoted the barrow around the wheel, and the wheel sank deeper into the rut. Overhead, a window spat, and dirty water splattered against the charcoal heaped in the barrow, splashing up to soak the front of her dress. Nadia wiped her hands across her dress and looked up. The windows that lined the upper stories frowned down at her.
How had she ever called this place home? Nadia slipped between the barrow handles and pulled. Malukgrad had never been her home, but Slabak’s, and Slabak had long since left for Nagyváros, abandoning Malukgrad and her with it. Nadia scowled and tugged on the handles. The wheel sprung free of the rut, and Nadia tumbled forward, onto the ground. There was a time, before Slabak left and for a long while thereafter, when Nadia might have cried, sprawled as she was, in the dirt. Instead, she laughed
3
‘Sorry, am I in your way?’ the mirror asked Kem.
‘That’s a loaded question.’ he replied. ‘I’m not sure you want the answer.’
‘Well, you’ve been stood there staring at me for about two minutes now, and it’s making me uncomfortable.’
‘Really? I’ll leave you alone, then.’ Kem said and walked out of the bathroom putting his hair back into a short ponytail.
‘That’s it; sod off and find something else to do instead of making the appointment.’
Kem had started talking to himself following his time in therapy with the rather immaculately named Gabriel. The style of therapy - called psychodrama - required him to reenact situations with people that had caused him upset, allowing him the chance to say what he wished he had. This would release whatever angst and self-judgement was attached to the memory.
It hadn’t. The only unburdening he felt was the seventy quid he’d given the therapist. His internal judge remained, wagging its finger and reminding him he brought it on himself by not seeing the signs
‘Oh shut up, you moron.’ He told himself and walked to the large and bright kitchen at the opposite end of the hallway.
4
Not So Alone On The Range
Terra was alone on the plains for the first time. Five days out from Grazer City and another seven or so before reaching the market at Portstown. Her only companions were her mount, Hopper, Frick and Frack, the two herding robots and Recon Thropters One, Two and Three. Of course she also had 107 head of Hadrosaurus domesticus to watch over, but they were even less company than the robots.
After reaching market the dinos would be sold for a hundreds different uses. Meat was obvious and plentiful, but there was also hides for fabric, bones and sinew to be used in polymer manufacture and blood that when treated with a few nano-catalysts because the most effective heat shielding liquid known.
This was Terras fifth drive but her first on her own. She had expected to love it. She should be loving it, but something kept bothering her. Not sure what it was and determined to compete a successful solo drive, she pushed on.
Recon thropter two detected the canyon towards the middle of the hot afternoon. Certainly she had been this way before and remembered the long, narrow descending trail. At the bottom she knew was a wide stream bottom. Always before the herd had spent the night resting there. They had abundant green shoots to munch on and water from the narrow waterway.
5
The Storyteller
He lay in the dust where the guards had thrown him, just inside the gates; he looked around the prison camp at the misery and suffering, at the vicious cruelty, starvation, degradation and hopelessness, and he decided to stay for a while.
It had been easy for Azrael to get into the camp -- all he'd had to do was dress like a peasant and appear in the marketplace, which was, after all, pretty much what everyone else had done to get sent there. But for everyone else, getting out was nearly impossible. Getting out alive, at least.
Azrael did not even know what this war, on this particular world in this corner of an out-of-the-way galaxy, was about, except that wars were always about the same things -- territory, money, rank and privilege, some variation or another.
He found a quiet corner beside a prisoners' shack where he could watch the goings-on without drawing any undue attention to himself, and took the opportunity to update his map. Removed from his tunic, the map spread itself out before him, and he smiled as he touched it to expand the view.
6
Dragon Dreams
He waited, suspended in water.
Once more the BBQ chicken leg floated past, once more he let it. Pretending he didn’t notice the particles floating off it; the positive permeation of his environment with its alluring sent.
He knew better.
*
“Pull’t up Hank. Nothin’ down there but hungry fish, and they’s ’most nibbled’t clean t’the bone.”
Hank pulled up the soggy remains of their lunch and started the out board motor. It had been a hopeless attempt from the start, and it was time to head in.
“Drun Dragon too stup’born to ‘at good chic’un. Plum Wasteful! ‘at’s wat he is.”
*
With the start of the motor he began his graceful, silent, pursuit. Why settle for a taste of chicken, when he could have something more.
The parting of his fearsome jaws was almost gleeful.
Drake put on more speed.
7
Alkeemik
Captain Hamerson sat behind her desk, poring over her holoscreen – the words were visible through to the other side, though they were backwards and made no sense. Probably written in alien. Tawny didn't know the captain could speak alien and she caught herself smiling at the thought of Mercy Hamerson standing in front of a room full of blue-skinned aliens addressing them in their own tongue. Especially as the captain was notoriously bad tempered about aliens
Tawny cleared her throat. "Ma'am?"
Mercy pushed the screen aside, took one look at Tawny and said, "Oh for goodness sake. I told them I needed a thespian. A thespian. Not a lesbian. Nobody around here listens to a damn word I say."
"Um." Tawny felt her cheeks burn. "No, ma'am, nobody sent me here. It's about Ethera…"
The captain got to her feet and walked around her desk to go and stand beside the window. She looked out to the vast expanse of space, though there was nothing much to look at other than the stars. Maybe a planet or two. A few moons… "What about her?"
8
Channel 8234 News feed bulletin - 2375 23:17
Reports are in that Trebloc 5 has just activated its Anti Matter Propulsion Device or AMPD. The Tri-Galaxy Federation is under the impression that an attack on the Government’s Home Base of Daastrit is the intended target.
This just days after Trebloc leader Jains Humuc signed a peace treaty with the Federation.
Federation Officials tell us their best and most skilled negotiator is on the way from a critical diplomatic mission nearby.
Updates ahead
Leaving the Party without a Gift bag
Lieutenant Gary Been sat in the lounge of the floating space dock. He was attending his longtime Federation partner’s retirement party and was a few Cosmo’s in already. He now found the drink ironic considering his current view; a starry black background His partner, John was a hard-nosed, straight shooting, remarkably charming man of about sixty. Gary considered himself the polar opposite of John. With that thought he polished off the drink and stood up to find John now.
As he crossed the room he saw news feeds popping up as the holo-channels appeared from nowhere. Something about Trebloc and an AMPD…good thing he was not qualified for that sort of mission. His particular skills catered to Union disputes and sitting at a desk with a cup of coffee.
9
The House on the Hill
It had started as a favour to a friend.
David remembered the morning quite clearly: late enough to be surrounded by only the hushed leftovers of rush hour, the day grey and greasy from the drizzling rain that gave everything a grimy, opalescent shine. He was walking along Embankment for something else to do than sit on a sofa all day; the wound on his arm ached dully, as it was wont to do every now and then. They would not let him back in his office at the station and his home was dull and empty; with firm but fair care, his colleagues had deigned Islington Police Station to be a no-go area for himself and Bella for at least several weeks. He had barely been allowed back to collect his belongings; it seemed the Met took their officers’ recovery very seriously indeed. David was fully healed but for the hazy grey area that was his psychological assessment. Twice deemed unfit for duty, he had now taken to wandering the streets, though without a purpose, or his job in mind, it was a rather dreary and lacklustre event.
10
The Revenant
I stepped over the lines of dark seaweed, my feet crunching on the stones, and a thrill of horror ran through me.
There was a body on the shingle.
The dark length was turned from me, outlined by the sun so it was an anonymous lump. I couldn't see a face. The Faerie Queen had gone down the week before with three sailors. Two were accounted for, so I knew whose face waited for me, swollen and white from the sea. Covering my mouth and nose with my sleeve I edged down the beach. I wasn't about to run for home like a coward to say there was something caught in the seaweed. I'd find out for certain whose body had washed ashore and I'd have something concrete to say in the village. My feet slipped on the uneven pebbles and my heart thundered uncomfortably in my ears.
I forced myself forward.
"Wench!" the body said. "Attend me."
Wench? I took a deep breath. "What do you want, revenant?" That was polite, in the circumstances. I'd never met a speaking corpse but I knew courtesy was important when dealing with the uncanny.
11
The Bridge of Souls
Shen-Kw’aim crouched in front of Jeta and Shan, and took a moment to embed their faces in his memory. He reached out to Jeta, brushing his daughter’s hair back from her eyes, and then put his hand on his son’s shoulder, squeezing just a little.
“Remember,” he said, “this body is not what carries our soul.”
He stood then and took Elana in his arms. She wanted him to stay; her clutching hands told him so, even though she knew the contract was unbreakable. The pain ahead would be worse and more prolonged if he didn’t go. She shook against him, her tears wetting his shoulder and it was all he could do not to break down and show his fear. He used precious moments taking her in his arms and kissing those soft lips once more, parting them, melting into her.
A sharp pain in his wrist made him pull away. He could hide it no longer. He let his wife go and turned away. It was time to die.
He started up the Hill of Souls, avoiding a new-soul who skidded down the path, sure of her way but not sure on her feet. Her face was lit with the wonder of sensation.
12
The Girl Who Wanted To Walk On Water
The other side of the lake was so far away that Maria could barely make out the unfinished bridge’s sole remaining arch. Yet it was no further than every other time and she knew today would be the day when she finally made it. She left her sandals on the grass and winced as the pebbles pressed into her bare feet.
A hands-breadth from the water, she paused. Tiny fish, too small to eat or be of any use – a little like herself, she thought – darted amongst the jagged, white-veined stones in the clear water. What if she failed? How much would one of those rocks hurt?
She stepped forward and imagined the water as a road, as a path to her Papa, but the moment her foot touched water, all she could think of was the rocks.
As her toes plunged to the bottom, she twisted to avoid their rough edges. She landed on pebbles but, off-balance, fell face-first into freezing water.
She pulled herself out onto the shore and shivered. Her red dress was soaked through and Mama would be furious. But she couldn’t take it off here and let it dry in the sun, not when anyone could come by. Instead, she put on her sandals and walked home, hoping it would dry before anyone saw her.
13
The Last Enemy
I know what you’re looking for.
The voice in my head appeared out of nowhere. I took a quick look around the pub, but no one was paying me any attention. Just another old soak, a warrior who’d seen too much and wanted to unsee it. Hands carved up from a life with a blade, knuckles gnarled with age so I could barely hold my pint. A face almost as badly carved up from that last fight, the one that had done for me. No one looked at me, and I didn’t blame them.
I can bring you to it. Everything you’ve ever wanted.
I looked around again, furtive now. No one had spoken to me in months, perhaps years. Didn’t really matter, because I didn’t know the language here. Didn’t need to, to beg, to carry a load or two off a ship, to slap what coin I could find on the bar and get my drink in return. I didn’t want to know what they said, what they whispered about me. Whispers had been my undoing.
The pub was full—market day. A gaggle of traders in the corner, all talking so fast the sounds slurred together. Some sailors by the bar, their dark faces all the darker from the searing sun. A couple of likely looking ladies eyeing up the sailors.
Off the stool now, out of the door. Come to me.
ETA: List of contributors
Me
Alchemist
Mouse
Glitterspeck
Tactical Loco
Victoria Silverwolf
Hope
Phyrebat
Ratsy
Dusty Zebra
Allmywire
Springs
Hex
Annnnd GO!
1
LOVE HAS PITCHED HIS MANSION
[FONT="] [/FONT]
Martin waited in his quiet, immaculate apartment for the escort to arrive. He had shaved with unscented depilatory, showered, brushed his teeth, and swallowed two of the pink tablets that were guaranteed to prevent all unpleasant body odors. Just to be on the safe side, he swallowed another. It tasted like roses.
Brief Encounters LLC was one of the most expensive escort agencies in the Air. Martin had studied it carefully for weeks, first anonymously, then as a prospective client. At last he described his desired companion to the agency’s AI and transferred the necessary funds, protected at all times by the icy blue walls of Air security.
The apartment chimed softly to announce the arrival of a visitor. Martin rose from the couch and activated the viewer. The door faded to blurred translucency. Beyond the soft mist stood the escort. Young, tall, with skin the color of gold dust and short black hair. Shirt and trousers shone in soft pastels of silk, or a good imitation. Unlike most persons facing a one-way viewer, the escort showed no sign of self-consciousness. Deep brown eyes seemed to look directly at Martin, as if the door were reversed.
2
The Collier’s Grove
Like a choir of wobbling drunkards, the buildings of Malukgrad leaned one against another, each held upright only by the embrace of the next. Their upper levels loomed toward the jetties of the buildings opposite, in places nearly kissing, though crudely so. In the shadows below the jetties, Nadia pushed her curls behind her ears. With her linen sleeve, she wiped sweat from her brow. The wheel of her barrow had caught in a rut, and she would have to pull now, instead of pushing. Nadia pivoted the barrow around the wheel, and the wheel sank deeper into the rut. Overhead, a window spat, and dirty water splattered against the charcoal heaped in the barrow, splashing up to soak the front of her dress. Nadia wiped her hands across her dress and looked up. The windows that lined the upper stories frowned down at her.
How had she ever called this place home? Nadia slipped between the barrow handles and pulled. Malukgrad had never been her home, but Slabak’s, and Slabak had long since left for Nagyváros, abandoning Malukgrad and her with it. Nadia scowled and tugged on the handles. The wheel sprung free of the rut, and Nadia tumbled forward, onto the ground. There was a time, before Slabak left and for a long while thereafter, when Nadia might have cried, sprawled as she was, in the dirt. Instead, she laughed
3
Try It On And See
‘Sorry, am I in your way?’ the mirror asked Kem.
‘That’s a loaded question.’ he replied. ‘I’m not sure you want the answer.’
‘Well, you’ve been stood there staring at me for about two minutes now, and it’s making me uncomfortable.’
‘Really? I’ll leave you alone, then.’ Kem said and walked out of the bathroom putting his hair back into a short ponytail.
‘That’s it; sod off and find something else to do instead of making the appointment.’
Kem had started talking to himself following his time in therapy with the rather immaculately named Gabriel. The style of therapy - called psychodrama - required him to reenact situations with people that had caused him upset, allowing him the chance to say what he wished he had. This would release whatever angst and self-judgement was attached to the memory.
It hadn’t. The only unburdening he felt was the seventy quid he’d given the therapist. His internal judge remained, wagging its finger and reminding him he brought it on himself by not seeing the signs
‘Oh shut up, you moron.’ He told himself and walked to the large and bright kitchen at the opposite end of the hallway.
4
Not So Alone On The Range
Terra was alone on the plains for the first time. Five days out from Grazer City and another seven or so before reaching the market at Portstown. Her only companions were her mount, Hopper, Frick and Frack, the two herding robots and Recon Thropters One, Two and Three. Of course she also had 107 head of Hadrosaurus domesticus to watch over, but they were even less company than the robots.
After reaching market the dinos would be sold for a hundreds different uses. Meat was obvious and plentiful, but there was also hides for fabric, bones and sinew to be used in polymer manufacture and blood that when treated with a few nano-catalysts because the most effective heat shielding liquid known.
This was Terras fifth drive but her first on her own. She had expected to love it. She should be loving it, but something kept bothering her. Not sure what it was and determined to compete a successful solo drive, she pushed on.
Recon thropter two detected the canyon towards the middle of the hot afternoon. Certainly she had been this way before and remembered the long, narrow descending trail. At the bottom she knew was a wide stream bottom. Always before the herd had spent the night resting there. They had abundant green shoots to munch on and water from the narrow waterway.
5
The Storyteller
He lay in the dust where the guards had thrown him, just inside the gates; he looked around the prison camp at the misery and suffering, at the vicious cruelty, starvation, degradation and hopelessness, and he decided to stay for a while.
It had been easy for Azrael to get into the camp -- all he'd had to do was dress like a peasant and appear in the marketplace, which was, after all, pretty much what everyone else had done to get sent there. But for everyone else, getting out was nearly impossible. Getting out alive, at least.
Azrael did not even know what this war, on this particular world in this corner of an out-of-the-way galaxy, was about, except that wars were always about the same things -- territory, money, rank and privilege, some variation or another.
He found a quiet corner beside a prisoners' shack where he could watch the goings-on without drawing any undue attention to himself, and took the opportunity to update his map. Removed from his tunic, the map spread itself out before him, and he smiled as he touched it to expand the view.
6
Dragon Dreams
He waited, suspended in water.
Once more the BBQ chicken leg floated past, once more he let it. Pretending he didn’t notice the particles floating off it; the positive permeation of his environment with its alluring sent.
He knew better.
*
“Pull’t up Hank. Nothin’ down there but hungry fish, and they’s ’most nibbled’t clean t’the bone.”
Hank pulled up the soggy remains of their lunch and started the out board motor. It had been a hopeless attempt from the start, and it was time to head in.
“Drun Dragon too stup’born to ‘at good chic’un. Plum Wasteful! ‘at’s wat he is.”
*
With the start of the motor he began his graceful, silent, pursuit. Why settle for a taste of chicken, when he could have something more.
The parting of his fearsome jaws was almost gleeful.
Drake put on more speed.
7
Alkeemik
Captain Hamerson sat behind her desk, poring over her holoscreen – the words were visible through to the other side, though they were backwards and made no sense. Probably written in alien. Tawny didn't know the captain could speak alien and she caught herself smiling at the thought of Mercy Hamerson standing in front of a room full of blue-skinned aliens addressing them in their own tongue. Especially as the captain was notoriously bad tempered about aliens
Tawny cleared her throat. "Ma'am?"
Mercy pushed the screen aside, took one look at Tawny and said, "Oh for goodness sake. I told them I needed a thespian. A thespian. Not a lesbian. Nobody around here listens to a damn word I say."
"Um." Tawny felt her cheeks burn. "No, ma'am, nobody sent me here. It's about Ethera…"
The captain got to her feet and walked around her desk to go and stand beside the window. She looked out to the vast expanse of space, though there was nothing much to look at other than the stars. Maybe a planet or two. A few moons… "What about her?"
8
Vacation to the Beautiful Trebloc 5, (Watch out for the Weapons of Mass Destruction)
Channel 8234 News feed bulletin - 2375 23:17
Reports are in that Trebloc 5 has just activated its Anti Matter Propulsion Device or AMPD. The Tri-Galaxy Federation is under the impression that an attack on the Government’s Home Base of Daastrit is the intended target.
This just days after Trebloc leader Jains Humuc signed a peace treaty with the Federation.
Federation Officials tell us their best and most skilled negotiator is on the way from a critical diplomatic mission nearby.
Updates ahead
Leaving the Party without a Gift bag
Lieutenant Gary Been sat in the lounge of the floating space dock. He was attending his longtime Federation partner’s retirement party and was a few Cosmo’s in already. He now found the drink ironic considering his current view; a starry black background His partner, John was a hard-nosed, straight shooting, remarkably charming man of about sixty. Gary considered himself the polar opposite of John. With that thought he polished off the drink and stood up to find John now.
As he crossed the room he saw news feeds popping up as the holo-channels appeared from nowhere. Something about Trebloc and an AMPD…good thing he was not qualified for that sort of mission. His particular skills catered to Union disputes and sitting at a desk with a cup of coffee.
9
The House on the Hill
It had started as a favour to a friend.
David remembered the morning quite clearly: late enough to be surrounded by only the hushed leftovers of rush hour, the day grey and greasy from the drizzling rain that gave everything a grimy, opalescent shine. He was walking along Embankment for something else to do than sit on a sofa all day; the wound on his arm ached dully, as it was wont to do every now and then. They would not let him back in his office at the station and his home was dull and empty; with firm but fair care, his colleagues had deigned Islington Police Station to be a no-go area for himself and Bella for at least several weeks. He had barely been allowed back to collect his belongings; it seemed the Met took their officers’ recovery very seriously indeed. David was fully healed but for the hazy grey area that was his psychological assessment. Twice deemed unfit for duty, he had now taken to wandering the streets, though without a purpose, or his job in mind, it was a rather dreary and lacklustre event.
10
The Revenant
I stepped over the lines of dark seaweed, my feet crunching on the stones, and a thrill of horror ran through me.
There was a body on the shingle.
The dark length was turned from me, outlined by the sun so it was an anonymous lump. I couldn't see a face. The Faerie Queen had gone down the week before with three sailors. Two were accounted for, so I knew whose face waited for me, swollen and white from the sea. Covering my mouth and nose with my sleeve I edged down the beach. I wasn't about to run for home like a coward to say there was something caught in the seaweed. I'd find out for certain whose body had washed ashore and I'd have something concrete to say in the village. My feet slipped on the uneven pebbles and my heart thundered uncomfortably in my ears.
I forced myself forward.
"Wench!" the body said. "Attend me."
Wench? I took a deep breath. "What do you want, revenant?" That was polite, in the circumstances. I'd never met a speaking corpse but I knew courtesy was important when dealing with the uncanny.
11
The Bridge of Souls
Shen-Kw’aim crouched in front of Jeta and Shan, and took a moment to embed their faces in his memory. He reached out to Jeta, brushing his daughter’s hair back from her eyes, and then put his hand on his son’s shoulder, squeezing just a little.
“Remember,” he said, “this body is not what carries our soul.”
He stood then and took Elana in his arms. She wanted him to stay; her clutching hands told him so, even though she knew the contract was unbreakable. The pain ahead would be worse and more prolonged if he didn’t go. She shook against him, her tears wetting his shoulder and it was all he could do not to break down and show his fear. He used precious moments taking her in his arms and kissing those soft lips once more, parting them, melting into her.
A sharp pain in his wrist made him pull away. He could hide it no longer. He let his wife go and turned away. It was time to die.
He started up the Hill of Souls, avoiding a new-soul who skidded down the path, sure of her way but not sure on her feet. Her face was lit with the wonder of sensation.
12
The Girl Who Wanted To Walk On Water
The other side of the lake was so far away that Maria could barely make out the unfinished bridge’s sole remaining arch. Yet it was no further than every other time and she knew today would be the day when she finally made it. She left her sandals on the grass and winced as the pebbles pressed into her bare feet.
A hands-breadth from the water, she paused. Tiny fish, too small to eat or be of any use – a little like herself, she thought – darted amongst the jagged, white-veined stones in the clear water. What if she failed? How much would one of those rocks hurt?
She stepped forward and imagined the water as a road, as a path to her Papa, but the moment her foot touched water, all she could think of was the rocks.
As her toes plunged to the bottom, she twisted to avoid their rough edges. She landed on pebbles but, off-balance, fell face-first into freezing water.
She pulled herself out onto the shore and shivered. Her red dress was soaked through and Mama would be furious. But she couldn’t take it off here and let it dry in the sun, not when anyone could come by. Instead, she put on her sandals and walked home, hoping it would dry before anyone saw her.
13
The Last Enemy
I know what you’re looking for.
The voice in my head appeared out of nowhere. I took a quick look around the pub, but no one was paying me any attention. Just another old soak, a warrior who’d seen too much and wanted to unsee it. Hands carved up from a life with a blade, knuckles gnarled with age so I could barely hold my pint. A face almost as badly carved up from that last fight, the one that had done for me. No one looked at me, and I didn’t blame them.
I can bring you to it. Everything you’ve ever wanted.
I looked around again, furtive now. No one had spoken to me in months, perhaps years. Didn’t really matter, because I didn’t know the language here. Didn’t need to, to beg, to carry a load or two off a ship, to slap what coin I could find on the bar and get my drink in return. I didn’t want to know what they said, what they whispered about me. Whispers had been my undoing.
The pub was full—market day. A gaggle of traders in the corner, all talking so fast the sounds slurred together. Some sailors by the bar, their dark faces all the darker from the searing sun. A couple of likely looking ladies eyeing up the sailors.
Off the stool now, out of the door. Come to me.
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