Spark scanned the street, a typical mid-town scene: corner bodega, laundry, electronics repair store, coffee shop, all with residential spaces perched above. Nothing to merit the strange sensation prickling him. Several normal-looking people walked by; a couple surreptitiously glanced his way. Spark nodded
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Joe sat near the edge of the roof, bathed in the cream-colored glow of Jupiter’s broad disc. “Why is it always some damn birds?” They loved building nests in the Slip Time Cooler housings, and he could just see a feather poking out. These dumb old models. Why didn’t they put grates over
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Santa knew this house. As his sleigh bumped lightly on the slate roof, he noticed a frisbee nestled in a gutter. I gave that to Suzy last year. Santa bent down, his ample belly bending easily, and tossed the toy into the yard. He liked the girl here, but her brother Bobby was next level.
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