Friday, February 20, 2015

(5) nuit

still working through the “so if earth was abandoned for a year which plumbing resources would still work” questions.

dont eVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE “winter heating/insulation issue”

Marcy awoke with the strong sense that she had been falling.

It was night. Quiet, too. Didn’t seem like anybody else was up. The porch doors were propped open, allowing thick streams of balmy air and cricket chips to float in. Every once and awhile, a wind swept the tree into a symphony of rustling.

Marcy used her thumb to rub hard the middle of her right palm. The scar there glowed in the moonlight, as did its twin that was located on her left palm.

Twin scars.

Two of too many.

Silently, she rose from the round wicker chair she had collapsed in earlier that night. Morning? She checked her phone. 2 a.m.

Inside, in the black, Marcy could spot Louis, lying sprawled across one of the couches in the living room. Steve was practically draped over the dog, probably getting a face full of smelly fur. Neither of them seemed to stir when Marcy wandered past, heading towards the bathroom.

Only when the door was closed behind her did she turn on the lantern. Flick water in her face. Stare.

My God she looked like shit.

The dream had been standard (all her mistakes, bad experiences in the past, etcetera etcetera) up until the end. Marcy’d been at this nearly two years and dreams of her still made her want to cry.

She exited, wandered upstairs. Rui and Scarlet were there, occupying the bed in the middle of the main room. Both were asleep as well. Marcy made her way further, into the last room at the end of the hallway. Took of her jacket, changed her shirt. Slipped on some shorts.

There was a distinct thump from the front yard.

Marcy froze.

She out her jacket back on. Grabbed a flashlight.

There was a man out there.

“Uh… hi?” The teenage girl blinked, too confused to even turn on the light. Whoever it was didn’t… look threatening. Looked kinda like her old bus driver, to be more accurate. Maybe middle aged? At least Marcy could tell he was Cattlayan, or else she would have been even more unnerved.

“Oh.” The guy apparently wasn’t as confused as Marcy was. He looked around, scratching the back of his head.

Wasn’t he going to say anything else? “Can… can I help you?” People were never her strong suit, before or after the Change. Besides, it was two in the morning. What the hell was he doing here?

“Well, maybe. You’re never going to believe this, but, see, I’m somewhat of a time traveler.” He seemed proud.

Boy howdy, was he about to get a bit of a culture shock.

more explanations will probably come in part seven?? or the next part, I'm not really sure.

remember these are one shots and should not be looked at as a linear series of events in any form. if any of these do follow each other's plot i'll probably let you know by calling them something like 7.1 or 7.2, etc etc etc.

1 comment:

  1. I RLLY RLLY LIKE THIS PART i like....everything about it.....