The tiger folded his paws, cuffs slipping, showing monograms on his golden cufflinks.
Peterson shuddered. The bureau was huge, bigger than his house.
It made the boss look even more elegant and sophisticated, then before.
The white marble-topped table was impressive, the tiger enthroning the big black leather chair looked like a king holding court.
“Peterson. Do you think, this impresses me?” The tiger snorted and laid his ears back. His golden eyes pierced the weasel sitting in front of his desk. “Do you think this is ENOUGH?” The growl in his voice made the glass of the windows tremble.
Continue reading “Mr Burke”
Part 2 - Tea with Jade and Tiger
Part 3 - Monkey on the Road
THE COLD MOUNTAIN
San Chou is a dangerous place. It is the domain of the infamous Band of the Black Viper.
Everybody in and around Li Jiang knows that… Bad news, even if only rumors, spread like bush fire over cities and the countryside. And the shadow of the Black Viper has reached the high officers in the cities around the Cold Mountain. It’s enough to get the governor Zhang Dee Yang upset.
The Black Viper is the fabric his nightmares are made of.
Continue reading “tiger, burning… (1)”
a chuck wending prompt (X), 5-sentence-story / 100 words
music inspired: Burn my shadow away, by UNCLE (war stories)
Entropy was a bitch, but only because I wasn’t a morning person.
Temperature fell below zero in a blink, my breath formed little vapor clouds.
My shadow bloated and blurred the room, stretching to the corners, fanning out and coaxing my thoughts into reality.
A blood colored velvet Chesterfield dropped to the ground with a thud, and a hot cup of tea wobbled into existence right in front of my left hand.
Really tired of these morons, working for me, nothing but a waste of space and energy… Being the devil, doesn’t make my job easier…
a chuck wending prompt (link); a 5-sentence-story (max 100 words)
A big, unusual looking white wolf stood on top of the hill, the forest in its back, stretched its hind paws and yawned.
Maybe its sky-colored eyes, or its gold dipped tail, or its huge glistening fangs made it look so exceptional…
Just before sunrise, the horizon started glowing and writing flashed to rush across the sky, as it always did.
The wolf read it out: “Thank you for choosing Strix Planetary Maintenance Systems.”
“Crap, time to upgrade,” the wolf rolled its eyes.
Today I got a squishy cargo. A six feet tall sack of white saggy meat. If you’re curious, it’s a human. A human for tonight’s Moonlight Market, an astrologer and seer. A rare offer for the market, really. It’s more of a custom request, than anything else. I’m going to cash up nicely.
My name’s Vespa. I may not look like it, but I’m far older than you may suspect. Since I’m part-part, my body obeys different laws. Today, some idiot calls me a twelve year old saucy bitch. No one calls me that, or anything else. Luckily, I don’t need more than fifteen seconds to cast a nasty curse. Don’t be surprised if you meet a five feet tall rat in Central Park.
Continue reading “Moonlight Market”
a Chuck Wendig flash fiction challenge (240 w) here
I plucked out a thin thread from the empty space in front of me.
With a gentle pull, I rotated my index around it. Slowly. With elliptical movements, carefully not to rip it. Always the same, always one thread at the time. I tugged at the fabric of destiny, twirled it between my thumb and index, till it became solid. Not one resisted my hands. I made a ball, in the size of my fist.
It looked like hair, made of pure moonlight. I remembered its glow, when I was still able to see, but that was long ago.
Somewhere around me, on the limestone tiles of the room, there must be over ten thousand orbs of glowing silver.
Decades passed, and what I did, I did every day. Since I got blind, I only imagined, when one day began and when it ended. The only constant occurrences were the food. They always send a child with the food, once a day – probably – always a different child.
But that wasn’t my concern.
My duty was to eliminate the uncertain futures, by pulling the alternative destiny patterns out of the tissue of time. I obliterated parallel events out of the myriads of possibilities. The run in the fabric collapsed the unwanted realities on its own. I only hooked the critical event and tugged, till I felt the cold sigh of perishing on my face.
a Chuck Wendig flash fiction challenge (208 words) here
I sat at my tiny table, a cup of hot green tea in one hand. The table was perched at the northern corner, on my two square meter balcony. Seventeenth story. The wind was icy, but I had great view. A view other people payed for: to my right, the blueish white blotch of Mount Fuji, to my left, the soft silvern gleaming of the ocean.
Around my apartment building the beads of streetlights and headlights of cars stretched as pulsating arteries of Tokyo. Although it was only about four o’clock pm, it was dark already. The stars and the full moon hid behind thick grey clouds. This January evening brought the scent of snow.
As the first flakes drifted by, I caught a glimpse of movement. Finally! It was the ghost light of a fox, heading this way. What trouble will you cause, my friend?
As His Majesties first Magician at Court, I had to keep the spiritual peace in the city. A mischievous little fox meant nothing good. They kept sticking their noses into the emperor’s business.
I thought of my tea. Really, it was a sin to let it cool out, but I had work to do.