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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