Archive for the ‘Luc Reid’ Category
The Death of Romance
Friday, October 24th, 2008
When Vera walked into the kitchen, she caught just a glimpse of a woman’s ghost tearing herself from Vera’s husband Tim’s embrace and vanishing into the wall. Tim’s face confirming what Vera would not otherwise have believed.
The Felix the Cat clock on the wall over the kitchen counter ticked placidly. From three rooms away came the familiar drumroll of a block tower being knocked down, paired with a shriek of laughter. Outside the window, over the meadow, a hawk circled.
Vera finally nodded, her expression blank, tired, accepting. She’d known Tim could speak to ghosts since before they’d started going out, back in college. He used compel the ghost of a young boy to drift along the floor at frat parties, and Tim would shout out the color or absence of underwear on any girl who had been dumb enough to wear a skirt. She should have known better than to fall for someone who would do that, but in private he had always been so charming, as though his public persona was just an embarrassing coping mechanism.
“Get out,” she said.
“That was just–”
“I don’t care. Get out.”
“But the girls need their–”
“Get. Out. Now.”
Tim grimaced, stood, walked to the refrigerator, extracted a Heinekin, popped it with the magnetized opener on the fridge, and threw the bottlecap on the counter. “No, I don’t think so,” he said. “I think you’d better get out.”
Vera stared at him. She had gradually come to realize how little character he had, the man she’d married, but she’d had no idea he had balls, too.
The air by the ceiling wrinkled, and a moment later a warped adolescent girl’s face emerged from it, shimmering with a black-purple glow, the telltale sign of a poltergeist. It drifted down through the air, changing direction purposefully when Tim pointed at Vera, smirking. Smug bastard. He probably thought he was the only one with the ability to command ghosts.
He didn’t even notice when taloned, electric-red hands emerged from the floor at his feet, reaching for his ankles.
The Ninja’s Girlfriend
Monday, October 6th, 2008
“Hold up, hold up: isn’t she that guy Link’s girlfriend?”
“Maybe she was.”
“Damn, John, you have to drop her–now! And go apologize to Link! What were you thinking about?”
“I was thinking about her fine–”
“Hey, hey, wake up and smell the stupid! Are you going to go let Link know you’re sorry or do I have to go apologize to him for knowing you? He’d kill me just for being friends with you!”
“I’m not afraid of that little freak.”
“Link’s a fucking ninja, man! Everybody knows that!”
“Yeah, I’m a big porn star too, did I mention that?”
“No, man, I’m not kidding! He killed like, three guys last year. He can breathe through his eyeballs. He can get through locked doors without even opening them! He can kill a guy and pull the body out of sight so fast it’s like the guy vanishes!”
“I can’t believe you swallow that stuff.”
“You’re gonna swallow one of those throwing star things if you’re not careful.”
“Listen, here’s what I’m going to do, you know, to clarify the situation. I’m going to go up to him at lunch and say ‘Hey, Link, what’s up? You don’t mind that I’m screwing your girlfriend, right?’ Then we’ll see if he kills me or not.”
“John, I swear to god I’m not kidding you, just think about this for a second.”
“If you think I’m afraid of some punk-ass kung fu geek with–”
“Hey, what the hell? Where’re you hiding? John? Shit, John? Oh, shit. Hey, Link, if you’re out there, man, I tried to–”