Mitheral
"Growf!"
Lori Stevens - Random Stranger
(RS for short for all of you who want to save your fingers later)
Jun 20, 2021 0200 hrs Sunday early morning
Lori had been watching Emily for days through the eyes of the city. Of all the people on her shortlist Lori found Emily to be the most promising place to start. She felt like a kindred soul. And the vague rumors she had picked up on suggested a good reason for that. There was a list of Missing Person’s reports a mile long that all ended with the child being found at home. There was a report from Nursery School where she was found laying on top of her clothes during nap time. (At least she hadn’t sunk into the mat, but it was embarrassing and unexplainable.) The final story before the Clinic took her was an auto accident. The driver swerved to avoid hitting a girl matching Emily’s description in the middle of the night - and slammed into a large oak tree. He wasn’t killed, but a story was concocted about how he had been DUI. (He hadn’t been.) Lori had discovered the DUI report had been doctored. It was nothing but a cover up. Of course, the intoxication level had been just low enough to avoid an actal charge. The charge had been expunged and swept under the rug.
Lori suspected two powers at work - invisibility and insustantiality. It was a perfect combination that would suit her needs.
A homeless man watched as Emily King stepped out of her parents bar at about 0200 in the morning. She no doubt stank of alcohol - not that the man smelled much better. It had been a long night of work and her very long weekend shift was over. The woman senses, blunted by the very medication that kept her true self from emerging hardly noticed the homeless man. Men like him were invisible. Lori decided to make the man a bit more visible. He staggered as he approached, not even glancing at Emily until he got close. Then he looked up, his eyes sharp and intense. His voice rasped, “Stop taking the blue pills! They rob you -- of you. They say it is for your own good. But in truth it is because they are afraid. There are others like you who need your help.” Then the man’s face went slack and he went back to ambling along...
(RS for short for all of you who want to save your fingers later)
Jun 20, 2021 0200 hrs Sunday early morning
Lori had been watching Emily for days through the eyes of the city. Of all the people on her shortlist Lori found Emily to be the most promising place to start. She felt like a kindred soul. And the vague rumors she had picked up on suggested a good reason for that. There was a list of Missing Person’s reports a mile long that all ended with the child being found at home. There was a report from Nursery School where she was found laying on top of her clothes during nap time. (At least she hadn’t sunk into the mat, but it was embarrassing and unexplainable.) The final story before the Clinic took her was an auto accident. The driver swerved to avoid hitting a girl matching Emily’s description in the middle of the night - and slammed into a large oak tree. He wasn’t killed, but a story was concocted about how he had been DUI. (He hadn’t been.) Lori had discovered the DUI report had been doctored. It was nothing but a cover up. Of course, the intoxication level had been just low enough to avoid an actal charge. The charge had been expunged and swept under the rug.
Lori suspected two powers at work - invisibility and insustantiality. It was a perfect combination that would suit her needs.
A homeless man watched as Emily King stepped out of her parents bar at about 0200 in the morning. She no doubt stank of alcohol - not that the man smelled much better. It had been a long night of work and her very long weekend shift was over. The woman senses, blunted by the very medication that kept her true self from emerging hardly noticed the homeless man. Men like him were invisible. Lori decided to make the man a bit more visible. He staggered as he approached, not even glancing at Emily until he got close. Then he looked up, his eyes sharp and intense. His voice rasped, “Stop taking the blue pills! They rob you -- of you. They say it is for your own good. But in truth it is because they are afraid. There are others like you who need your help.” Then the man’s face went slack and he went back to ambling along...
Duncan Moran and Diane Matthews
Duncan’s nose wrinkled at the smell of the contents of a bag of garbage as he opened it up. But even that didn’t gross him out as much as the maggots that squirmed in the foul ooze of rotting meat. He might have quit this job already if not for several things. First, the pay wasn’t bad. And it got him free vaccinations. Yay, he was resistant to Hepatitis and Tetnus! Second, it was way, WAY better than scooping ice cream for some annoying entitled brat who couldn’t make up his mind about what he wanted - while having to wear some silly hat and pay homage to the old adage that the customer was always right. The Hell they were! Third, this was where he had run into Diane Matthews.
Diane was his “sister”, a modern hippie tree hugger who thought this was the dream job, saving the world from waste. She considered the world heroic. They had talked and found they had a LOT in common. Most interesting was the fact that they had been born about 15 minutes apart in the same hospital in Reno. They started joking about being twins - fraternal, of course. He was slightly older, hence the big brother. They even LOOKED related.
“Oh look, protein!” Diane exclaimed, much to the annoyance of one of the others working there. She was way too cheerful for their taste.
Duncan grinned. “I don’t care what it smells like; jump in.”
Diane shook her head. “Shame on you. You’re the Star Wars fan. It goes: “Get in there, you big furry oaf! I don't care what you smell!” And I am not furry nor an oaf. I am more of a … Princess.” She grinned. “I am the Azure Princess!”
Only then did Diane’s smile fade. The Azure Princess was an idea she had had for a story. But she had never managed to get it on paper. She would try now and then, but she simply couldn’t stick with it for long. But she was sure if she could complete it, it would make for a great novel.
“You want to hit Comicon next weekend? (Jun 26 - 27, 2021)”
Diane shrugged. "I guess. Better than sitting around the apartment.”
Iacentis , nohbdy , @Sorley , Jessie_Ackerman , Selee-01 , @nightvision
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