1 - 20 of 88 Works by traveller
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“Just get rid of this fucking thing,” Richard says, scratching at the beard.
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“Noor Khan, Chris Argent. Chris, Noor.” Jake gestures between them with the H&K he’s holding. “Thanks for coming.”
“Watch where you’re pointing that thing,” the woman says in a crisp accent, knocking the gun away with the back of her hand before reaching out to shake Chris’s. “Nice to meet you.”
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So it was a usual Wednesday morning, with Jim giving dramatic readings from the crank file (Well, it all started when me and Devethz were burning some stuff out behind the hangar, and then the police showed up. They snapped off my antennae...) and Bones stretched out on the client sofa with a cup of coffee on his stomach and a throw pillow over his face until it was time for him to do the girl voices.
Then the Vulcan knocked on the door.
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She turns back to Erik, tilts her head at Charles. “He said you will watch.”
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a novel in 500 words
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Spring in Oceanside is mild and boring; Brad has two weeks liberty in April and the days stretch out like a desert highway in front of him, waiting to be explored. He takes a late afternoon dive a few miles off the coast, comes up to find a text from Nate's Google voice number. Orioles playing two in Atlanta starting Thursday, it reads. Bet for or against?
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The clock ticks out the backbeat; the leaking roof drips a counterpoint into pots and pans and an old plastic dish tub.
- Words:
- 200
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 4
- Hits:
- 396
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"Your kid hates me," Brad says into the phone. Under the bed, Maddy snuffles, stretches and yawns.
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The morning of the assassination, Patti Jankowski got up, took a long shower and towel dried her hair before braiding it into two long ropes that hung over her shoulders. She put on jeans, a t-shirt that showed Mickey Mouse saluting the American Flag, a light tan windbreaker and her comfortable blue SAS sneakers. In her shoulder bag she put a Smith and Wesson .22 caliber revolver, and an umbrella. The forecast was for a 62% chance of rain.
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He thinks she'll get over it, she'll get tired of the idea, she'll fall for some boy her own age, maybe the kid with the hair, and she'll forget she ever said such a thing to a man she's called uncle ever since she was ten, she'll stop wearing his goddamn bathrobe and he'll be able to sleep again.
- Words:
- 2,947
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 123
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yoga and Zach and Chris.
- Words:
- 624
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Hits:
- 50
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Things were a little better and everybody had food to eat and a place to stay but it was still New Orleans, à jamais.
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They met in the bathroom.
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"Bizmallah," Ahmad said, banging his forearm against Jensen’s in salute.
"Jesus, take the wheel," Jensen answered, stepped back and kicked.
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It's just a game, okay, and if you play it right, nobody gets hurt.
- Words:
- 2,479
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Hits:
- 48
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"Where is she, Dean?"
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She checks her lips in the bronze mirror, makes sure the red is even and not bleeding out at the edges; she makes a pout and gets a blurry kiss reflected back. She dabs a little perfume on the beauty mark on her cheekbone, wets her hands with the pitcher and smoothes her hair.
- Words:
- 2,777
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 89
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There comes a day when she stops knocking her elbows and knees into everything, and starts to move like some kind of cross between a prizefighter and a ballerina.
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July tumbles into August in a long loose sprawl of limbs.
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He had said as much once, to a girl, and she laughed and told him to stop playing that card, she wasn't going to buy it that he had trouble getting dates, and what he couldn't make her understand was that sure, he could get a date any old day, what he was talking about was somebody, that's different.
- Words:
- 1,504
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 2
- Hits:
- 130