Enjoy this week’s slice of literary cake.
They came to the house by the dozen, all between sundown and when she went to bed. Her aunt’s boyfriend, Christophe, would lead them past the dining room to the locked door. Nothing seemed exceptional about it from the second floor.
Millie never saw the strangers together, and her aunt made it perfectly clear that these parties had nothing to do with her. But she guessed there was just shy of a hundred people in the house by the time she went to sleep, and they were always gone in the morning. From her bedroom window, between the parted lace curtains, she could see them walk down the street and always knew they were coming here.
[Copyrighted © May 29 2015, J.M. Blute]
Here’s to the first! This week’s 100 words (ish) is a snippet of a larger piece, like a slice of literary cake. Enjoy.
“He’s in the kitchen,” the voice spoke through his earpiece. Nexus was an automated system, and he was sure the person who recorded it had no idea what they were part of. Like Susan Bennett and Siri.
Daniel passed the staircase to the door on his right, his tranquilizer gun going first. Take him alive, sure, but don’t be stupid. The beanpole artist stood over a mostly sliced apple, a bowl of Nutella on the counter beside him. Brown hair, a little long by Daniel’s standards, fell in front of his eyes as they stared at each other.
“Let’s make this easy, Mr. Preston.”
[Copyrighted © May 15 2015, J.M. Blute]