Lazy, swinging jazz filtered in my window from the music school on the floor below my office. I swirled my glass, listening to how the clinking ice joined the quick staccato melody from the saxes and the rain outside. Every once in a while, a rumble of thunder or bright flash of lightning added some excitement to my personal concert.
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The river was endless.
It stretched like a vein of black glass through the dark, wide enough to swallow sky and shore alike. The air smelled of iron and salt. Each pull of the oar echoed like a heartbeat too slow to belong to the living.
I leaned against one of the many freestanding pillars around the edges of the ballroom, pretending to sip the violet liquid in my cup. Pairs of dancers whirled across the dance floor, feet moving perfectly in rhythm with the string ensemble’s arrangement of a popular tune.
Behind me, trios and quartets mingled at tables
I staggered into the kitchen, pulling on the white-grey shirt of my superhero suit and accidentally jamming my toe against a chair. “Ouch!”
Behold, the mighty hero Shields, sans coffee.
With the shirt on properly—never mind, it’s on backward—I jabbed a button on the coffee maker. Gurgle, gurgle.
My stroll down the block came to a halt as I caught the sign in my periphery. TIMELESS: Antiques & Vintage Goods. I could practically feel the time portal pulse with hope, though I’d shoved the former deep within my bag and the latter deep within my soul.
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Officer Ward pulled up to the house. Danielle’s car sat in the driveway behind Taylor’s SUV. Coincidence? Might make his job easier—two birds, one stone—but he dreaded the coming conversation… or confession. Too close to this case, he cursed himself for not asking the chief to make this call.
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The crowd cheered, and confetti fluttered through the air as people gathered on either side of the street. Trevon pushed with his elbows through the bodies blocking his path, gently cupping the treasure he held in his hand. Men and women grimaced as he passed,
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“Really, Peter? You’d die for a song?”
My younger brother’s words echo in my ears as I reach for another sheet of music—the prelude to today’s final hymn. The knot in my stomach has nothing to do with the fact that I skipped
“528 Cactus, this is Quik-Warp fueling station, what is your routing number?” a monotone voice buzzed over the coms.
Tabytha cruised toward the little station, steering with her knees as she pinned back the sides of her awkward not-quite-pixie hair before flipping
“Wake up!” a man barks through a respirator mask as he raps his baton across the window my head rests against.
I stretch open my drugged eyelids and meet an unrecognizable world. I’m waking up to falling ash and a crimson sky.
“It’s the
My neighborhood can be mean, and some might say I’m the meanest around, but I only do what I do to keep the riffraff in line. And, yeah, maybe I enjoy it a little.
One evening in late winter, with the pavement still slick from slushy snow and the
A roar from a nearby mountain blasted across the village of Torma. Dropping their wares, the inhabitants of the village pulled their cloaks tighter from the booming screech, but a young shepherd walked along as if on a mission, his head held high.
The noise ceased at the same time the sheep tender approached Mayor Lun.
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