Archive for the ‘Luc Reid’ Category
A Turn of Fortune
Wednesday, November 24th, 2010
Anya looked anxiously down at her crystal ball, but instead of the tiny fragments and swirling mists she usually saw there were very clear glimpses, tricky to interpret but well-defined. She’d been beginning to think she couldn’t make it as a fortune teller after all, but maybe she was getting the hang of it.
“You will meet someone soon–very soon!” she said breathlessly. “A pale man with a pale mark … you will be very excited when you meet him, but–oh, there is danger. Great danger! You must beware–”
She looked up into her client’s face–a pale face, with a fat white scar down one cheek like the trail of an acid tear. She glanced down at the crystal ball again, and realized–stupid, stupid!–she had it oriented backwards, wrong side to the west. She hadn’t been reading her client’s fortune at all. She’d been reading–
“Talented,” muttered the pale man. He stood up, but not to leave.
Your Call Is Important To Us
Friday, November 12th, 2010
For a minute there, Tom thought he smelled something burning, but then the phone rang, and he muted the YouTube video and picked up.
“TotalCast Cable, this is Tom,” he said, tilting his head to see the contortionist in the video better. “Your call is important to us. How may I help you today?”
The person on the other end of the line asked something about local hours in Vermont.
“OK. First, can you give me your address?”
The other person complained that Tom didn’t need her address: a troublemaker. Tom hated these people.
“I need your address to find your closest local office,” he said patiently.
The other person gave the exact address of the closest local office and repeated, as though Tom hadn’t heard the first time, that all she needed was to know what time they opened on Saturday.
“Yes, but I need your address to be able to tell you about special offers in your area.”
The person yammered on about having already closed their account, blah blah blah. Tom brought up the hours of that local office on the screen just for his own amusement, then closed it. The contortionist video had finished, but there was a link to an X-Rated contortionist site. Tom clicked on it.
“I can try to look it up without your address, but it may take a while,” Tom said. There were two contortionists in this video, and one of them was a redhead. “While you’re waiting, let me tell you about some of the new features available in your area.” Without waiting, he started doing that while the customer tried to protest, talking over him. Then, suddenly, the room went dark.
“That will be plenty, thank you,” said a grating voice that was so loud it hurt his ears. The computer was gone, and the room he was in, and the light had gone dull red. Realization flooded back in on him.
“No, let me try again!” he shrieked. “I promise I’ll do better! I promise!” He reeled away, but the demon grabbed him by the throat and dragged him along the gritty black rock toward the Door.
“Don’t worry. You can try again in another hundred years,” said the demon. He patted Tom on the head, and a patch of skin on Tom’s scalp burned away at the acid touch. “I’m sure you’ll get it eventually.”