Short Story

it is life, Mama!” Mama: “Oh—so now its life. Money is life. Once upon a

“Ok, I will go on. So I stood there at the restaurant and a policeman comes toward me and..”

“Yeah, we’re all fine, no thanks to you and the building you flew yourself into.”

“I am so sorry,” a stream of red carried my apology to him. “I didn’t know that you would….” I trembled. “That we would…” Our memories shattered against the stretch of diminishing breath. “You need to go. You’re running out of time.”

I did not predict the apology that fell from his lips, an apology a million times over rehearsed out of regret. I did not interrupt, nor draw away my attention, not even when his speech bubbled with tears and his beard coated over their sparkle. I waited until he was done before opening my true mouth, gobbling up his head and escaping the ward with what little remained of Mother.

My heart skips a beat. The man beside me, the one who’s not a memory, is commanding me to leave.

“He has no mother. He has no skates.” Those words in my mind repeated over and over. My face went pale as I realizing Jerry had lied, my fists were clenched as I walked away. Why did he lie, I asked myself as I searched for him? I found him alone on a hill top. I recognized him by his old, ripped, red shirt and blue jeans that were covered in dirt. Tears left tracks on the dirt of Jerry’s face.

"Don't squirm pig. You've had this coming for a long time!" Officer Danytha winced as the punk whipped her hand across the young Elf's face. Her uniform was ripped and stained from being dragged through the dirt, her normally alabaster complexion smeared with a combination of blood, sweat, and mud. Another impact came, throwing her to the ground hard and knocking the wind from her lungs.

I composed myself before facing the bumbling fool, intent on giving him a sound what for – only to discover a ruggedly attractive man standing before me. Rendered speechless, I couldn’t help but peruse the fine specimen, admiring the rakish five o’clock shadow defining his masculine jaw, noting the snug way his shirt stretched over powerful muscles, and aware of the dark, enigmatic air clinging to him. Finally, I snapped to the fact I blatantly stared at him, mute and immobile, and likely appearing a bumbling fool

know what came over me, but it will never happen again.” Karen replied, “I don’t know what kind of woman you think I am, but I’m not the easy lay and what makes you think I would get involve with a convict she said with a half-smile on her face?” Then she told him their session was over today. “Can I see you again on your next visit?” he asked. Sure, it’s part of my job to assist you, she said in a girlish way. He then stood up and shook her hand and said, it’s been a pleasure talking to you.

“Well,” Chase heaved in a deep breath, stared at Sylvester and said. "We'll have to deal with it as we go!”

Leaha fought the urge to focus on the screen that buzzed to life in her lap. The laptop could use a hell of an upgrade, one she already mapped out. But for now it would do, specially considering that it could not be tracked. Leaha wanted to dig into the files she had stolen, not only to learn what had set off the attack against them. But also to learn more about the people around her now. Leaha had never really trusted anyone, and the fact that she had almost allowed it before all this only pissed her off. But it proved her feelings on trusting others right in smooth move.

Seated on a soft cushioned chair was a young man no more than seventeen years of age. Dressed in a white Adidas zip up jacket, with a black t-shirt underneath. A pair of ripped blue jeans and some wheat colored Timberlands. He was leaning in the chair sighing deeply as he rolled his eyes at the older man across the desk. No matter how many times he came here, nothing changed. The older white man dressed in a classic black and white suit was reading over a sheet of paper as he glanced at the young man every now and then. To be honest, he

A perfumed musk clings to the room as all sorts of breeds fill the seat lining the hall. Many of the patriots accompanying the rows of seat are clad in rich purples and vibrant greens, and every face appeared to be some form of humanoid, barring a peculiar half-orc, adorned in a red jerking chased with gold, who seemed to enjoy standing rather than sitting like the rest. Down the center of the many seats cut a path of ornate carpet that lead to an elevated centerstage which housed artifacts and tapestries and mysterious objects housed in obscuring containers. The hustle and bustle of the auction house left the room stuffy. Overhead hung an elaborate chandelier with the finest silverwork that coiled and lead to peaks with licking wicks that

“You should put your mask on,” the heavily sweating, somewhat well-padded man to her right fussed. Mallory was a loyal man, she asked him to