Archive | April 11, 2019

Ladies Who Garden

Ladies who Garden


It was Whitney’s second spring working on the Crossroads park, so she had gotten used to some of the more surprising help – not just the fae and ghosts, the strange-people and the occasional mysterious work done between when she left one night and when she returned the next, but vagrants and rebellious kids, cops and neighbors of the area and, once, the entire local chapter of the Pagans motorcycle club.

She was, still, a little bit confused when seven women – all wearing pastel straw hats over their well-coiffed grey hair, sporting gloves with flowers on them that nevertheless looked as if they had seen use at some point, and carrying brightly-coloured caddies full of gardening tools – walked up to her while she was taking a water break.

“Gwendolyn Marcus.”  The lead woman – yellow hat, yellow gloves, pink caddy – held out a gloved hand. Continue reading

Camp NaNoWriMo – Autumn Lightning

As I described last week, my Camp Nano project is a continuation/hopeful finishing of the Autumn Lightning project, a story about (three-people-in-one-body) following Leo around, sometimes accidentally, throughout the years after the apocalypse.

While one of the appeals of this story was being able to bounce around – it’s actually something like 40 connected short stories – I’m still on Cabin in the Woods.  This is part III – where Leo and Nathan (At this point being steered by The Other, the protector-face who uses They pronouns) go to get Leo’s weapons back from the slavers who’d captured Leo – and to deal with said slavers, too.


A man fell with a thump at the Other’s feet. They looked down at the man and then back up at Leo, twice, before deciding that Leo was done with this one.

They’d reached the third floor of the place and left it christened in death. Leo moved like a panther; three times the Social One had needed to remind the Other that they were not there just to watch, because Leo seemed to move like he required an audience, like the world itself said he should be watched.

You’re not normally this poetic. Are we killing this one?

The Other looked down at the man at his feet, back up at Leo, who was toying with a woman who didn’t realize she was being played with, and down at the man. “Slaver?” they snarled, quietly enough that it shouldn’t interrupt Leo.

The woman yelped as Leo caught her by surprise. The Other smiled broadly.

The man gulped and tried to scoot backwards, although he seemed dazed, one of his legs broken. “N-no, No, of course not. I’m – I’m-”

Lying, Social offered, as if the Other couldn’t figure that out for themselves.

Words so far this month: 7690

Goal thru yesterday: 7400