Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Two for Tuesday #3

In our next set of Two for Tuesday samples, we have a pair of paragraphs from two more excellent Quests, Curses, & Vengeance stories.  Let’s get right to it.

Our first pair is from “But I Know We’ll Meet Again Some Sunny Day” by Lauren A. Forry:

            Penelope’s feet landed on a pile of soggy sand. Had she miscalculated? The TT4500 remained strapped securely to her wrist, but her hands shook so badly she couldn’t read the display. Bloody adrenaline, she thought. A red blur rumbled past, spraying her stockings with dirty water. She jumped back as the double-decker disappeared around the corner, her back colliding with a soft wall. Sandbags stacked four rows high. It was sand from a burst sack that littered the pavement. The TT buzzed—18 October 1940, 17:03. This was it. She was here.

            The adrenaline fading, Penelope removed the watch-like device from her wrist and slipped it into her coat pocket as a gaggle of women in navy blue uniforms passed. Her eyes followed them, and she caught sight of the sign beside her: London Bridge. Damn it. She meant to land closer to Bermondsey. She could take the Jubilee... no. The Jubilee line didn’t exist yet. She would have to walk, and daylight was fading.

Our second set comes from “All in a Day’s Work” by Karl G. Rich:

            “Beware!” screeched the Oracle.

            The stone walls, darkened from years of oily smoke residue from torches, bounced the sound around the hall. A damp, cold breeze wafted through my bare legs and raised the hair on the back of my neck. A lizard man stood on either side of me and gripped my upper arms in clawed, reptilian hands. If I had been six feet tall, these creatures would have towered over me by nearly twelve inches. With dry green skin and blunt noses, they appeared to be ripped out of a Raphael painting of sixteenth century nightmares. They could have held me with an encircling thumb and forefinger, as a father restrains a two-year-old child, so massive were their scaly hands. The Oracle’s black eyes with flaming pupils were set deep within her craggy countenance and bored hatred into my soul. Her lank, gray hair hung loosely as her toothless mouth worked up spit to swallow.

For the full stories, check out Quests, Curses, &Vengeance.

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