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The Kiss of a Thief Chapter One
The trader shook hands with the buyer, then accepted his pay. With a clink, the gold coins dropped into his waiting, greedy hands. He approached, and removed my shackles and collar. The respite from the cold, rusted, biting metal was brief, for they were quickly replaced with frayed rope. He bound my wrists tight, delighting in the grunt of pain I let out as it threatened to cut off the circulation. He gave a bark like laugh as he tightened another around my throat, and I gasped and choked against it as it pressed in on my windpipe.
“No refunds,” he told the man, handing over the end of the rope so I could be led away like a dog, “And no returns.”
“That won’t be a problem,” my new owner assured him, then pulled me forwards, “You’ll be a good girl, won’t you?”
I didn’t reply, and stared down at my bare, grimy feet. I’d learnt the hard way that answering back against my Masters wa
Green Eyes, Interlude XVMark lay back on the hotel bed, his fingers laced, his hands on his chest, staring unseeing up at the ceiling: not saying, not doing, not thinking.
Nothin, there was nothing. As far as could be seen, Hank and his victinms vanished off the face of the Earth. Godfrey and Xenya kept assuring him that their friends are looking, but Mark had no faith in friends. Not now.
The phone rang. Slowly, Mark turned his head to look at it: the blinking light and ringing alarm trying to get him to answer the incoming call.
He didn’t. Godfrey and Xenya called several times about some new lead. Mark looks away again.
The phone went on ringing.
Mark took a deep breath, then let it out, his broad chest rising and falling as he struggled to tune it out.
Finally, with a growl, he rolled over and grabbed the handset. “What?” he snarled.
Mark’s eyes widened. “Mr. Jones!” he exclaimed, surprised.
“Hi, Mark. Listen, I think I know where Hank is now.&
dead dog julyI.
the summer heat lays limp in the city’s lap,
breathing long oppressive breaths.
it does not even lift its lolling head
to bark out hoarse indignancy
when a strange man brings the mail.
there might be heavy rain today,
brought by some swollen, murmuring cloud.
the world will whirl and howl,
then settle down,
to die a little more.
o, quickly, love,
press your back against the wall in fear
as the universe spreads her arms and
shuts her eyes
and starts to summon the end of all things.
come with me
to the place of windows full of speechless afternoon
hot windy whispers of half-formed solutions and resolutions,
sweltering sunlit meadows we’ll wander and then forget.
o quickly, love,
let’s to the season of forgetting
and unwind all of our harshest memories
and fill the universe’s mouth
with mute cotton.
i’ll whisper these words to you some evening
with all my exigency in the hand i rest on your arm—
AndromedaAmongst the darkened skies
Brightened by only starlight
Field & Sea.
Gravity is only an afterthought
Hilltops become ladders into the sky while
Inferior planets stare down upon the Earth
Jealous of such simplicity yet contemplating grandeur.
Keppler only thought of science
Linear, elliptical, movement…
Mythology had no such thoughts
Neptune & Nebulas both inhabit space
Orbiting across the lonely darkness
Probably never worried about mundane things
Questioning their existence
Right now or for all eternity such as us.
Shooting stars make us joyful while
Terminator is an otherworldly spectacle
Unknown to all those hidden in their houses
Various stars await us outside
Waiting to play like we did before
Xenagogue & inviting
Youthful but ancient curiosities.
Zenith induced euphoria continues until daylight…
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