The rain had been falling all morning, causing condensation on the inside of the car window. Julia tried to look out it, but just couldn’t. She knew where they were going. She didn’t need to see it. Soon they entered the little pocket of urban gardens and backyard pools that once she had called home.
Julia wiped a bit of the moisture from the passenger’s window and peered out. She knew all too well the ugliness that lurked just beneath the peaceful facade. The lies, lust, and greed permeated the very air clinging to the window. Silver Hollow, home of beautiful houses, manicured lawns and well tended gardens. And the most grisly double murder in the history of the county. The murder of her parents.
They turned down the lane. Plop, plop plop, the rain fell like fat tears and Julia watched out the window.
The storm had passed and the sunrise brought a new day. Beatrice was looking out the window at the pasture across the road. She watched the mist that rose from the cool damp of the ground.
In her mind she heard the tiny voices call. “Fairies,” she muttered. Finally, the call to adventure was more than she could bear. Beatrice darted out of the house and across the road. There, under the old sycamore tree, she found the fairy ring. She stepped inside and was instantly surrounded by tiny winged beauties. They fluttered around her in circles. She felt herself shrink and change until, at last, she was a fairy herself.
“Princess Beatry,” they called to her. “Where shall we go today.”
She looked at her subjects and smiled. “On an adventure my lovelies!” Princess Beatry launched herself into the air and was followed by a hundred fairies.
Solanj paid no heed to the “no entry” signs as she approached in her slinky black gown. She presented her piccolo case, along with a long shapely thigh showing through the gown’s walking slit, and the smiling guard passed her through. The orchestra was already preparing for tonight’ssymphony. Solanj stood for a moment sizing up the hall, picking the spot where the sounds would resonate the least.
On the lighting platform, Solanj opened her piccolo case. She withdrew a slender silver tube which she fitted with a mouthpiece and loaded the tiny darts concealed in her bracelet. She was ready.
The orchestra began their prelude. Solanj started her breathing ritual before lifting the blowgun to her lips. Just for a moment she could remember other symphonies, better times. She shook her head and focused on her breathing, opening her eyes. “Time for you to die Mr. Ambassador.”
I woke with a start and began working the cramp out of my leg from sitting too long in the back of the “meat wagon.” That’s what they called the airplane. They were taking us to “paradise” to a land with sun and beaches, or so they claimed.Continue reading “Grey World”→
The Virgin River, Zion National Park at the entrance to the “Narrows” after the 100-year flood, rock cairns everywhere. Further evidence of the solely human need to stack things on top of other things. 😉