“I admit, it was a kneejerk reaction,” John shivered. We were both nearly naked and dripping wet. The dive I took into the frozen lake was an accident, and John did his best to rescue me. He had a conscience after all. It was his fault that I broke in, in the first place. So he pulled me out, brought me back to the mansion. The blanket I had on my shoulders started itching. I hoped his itched as well. Continue reading “bruises”
The rock wall flew past. I clawed at it. The climbing harness dug into my thighs and waist, yanked me back. I felt Nick’s dead weight pulling under me. “Don’t let go!” I yelled, but a gust took my voice. I swung out of control.
First time I met consul Niishima, I was preparing tea for the European diplomats. I had that part of the embassy, the guest wing, and the lower common kitchen to myself, so I din’t bother to close any of the doors. The meeting was scheduled that early afternoon.
A tall handsome man manifested in the doorway. I nearly dropped the tray with the cups and napkins. Back then, I didn’t know who he was. I threatened to call security on him. He smirked and said he was going to steal some cakes. Continue reading “Consul”
Oz takes the bandages from my new prosthetic hand and sets the new parameters for my fine motor skills. Try. Obediently I clench and unclench my fist. Feels weird. The hand sweeps accidentally to the right, nearly smashing the coffee cup from the table Oz calls office. He gives me painkillers. He forgets I can switch my sensory input off. Probing the feel of it, I do some exercises. The movements are grainy.
Next time I print you a better one. He sighs. Has to suffice for now. The feeling of a doubled limb glitches through my arm and head. Oz calls it phantom limb. You’ll get used to it. I disconnect the sensors, and reconnect. There is no pain at all, just this sensation of a vague hand dragging me across movement. Continue reading “med bay snippet #5”
dangers of underserved power – a chuck wendig prompt
I wave a cheeseburger in front of the animal. The chimpanzee observes carefully. He nods vigorously, showing teeth. His ears flap. Chuck’s the only chimp I know to prefer burgers over bananas, or fruits, or gummy bears. He’s a primate in every way.
Probably I could bribe him with booze and cigarettes too. Nearly a human…
I point at the screen. The pattern is so slow, that even the stoned biology student catches up. Continue reading “space monkey mafia (1)”
Special Agent Eric Paulson stood in my doorway, with a goofy smile on his thin lips. He flicked away his still burning cigarette. Snowflakes melted on his grey stubby chin.
“What do you want?” I asked. Bitterness seeped from the back of my throat. I wanted to spit it out, but words fell out instead. “Seven. Years.” He didn’t even call, when my sweet little Anna died. Continue reading “Cursed, not Gifted”
“It says John Doe.” My own voice seems distant and alien. The thin hospital bracelet catches the afternoon light, and I’m more than tired. The bruised skin below the white plastic still hurts.
The car engine hums over the country music, seeping from the radio. John taps his fingers to the beat. I wish he’d stop.
Everything makes my skin crawl, including my reflection. I catch a glimpse of my black eye, and the bloodshot green one, googling back at me. I look like I have been in a bar fight with a drunk moose and a lunatic grizzly. The cut on my lip burns. The moose and the bear stop wrestling and laugh at me instead.
The seatbelt’s tug feels too tight…