P.S. Click through for more of Steve Thomas’ travel suggestions. They’re kinda awesome.
We’re making a slight detour from the actual order of the playlist because this song has been stuck in my head all week and I needed to share that with you. Because I’m nice. Thoughtful. All those good things. And because someone made this fanvid for it that’s the bestest thing ever. If you’re a sci-fi […]
Out on the street from the pub, there were ‘no-go’ zones around the hit, marked by push notifications: ‘Street closed. Follow prompts to detour.’ The notes buzzed the mobiles in their pockets, tingling like a mild electric fence.
So right now I’m nomming the Jim Butcher Dresden Files books.* They’re like popcorn with magic and hitting things. I totally recommend them. (And the audio books as read by James Masters, who is the perfect voice for Harry Dresden.) On a (probably) related note, I’m sort of accidentally writing this new thing. (Not in […]
<— Previous ~~~~~ Chapter Two “I seem to have misplaced a bound, you see.” The two of them squeezed through the hole, newly torn in the ‘crete of the vault wall, its steel joists raw as bare bond, and jagged as if a screen artifact of hi-res fire. Then they fell into the blank alleyway […]
<— Previous ~~~~~ Nanograph One Andy had never been much of an Author himself. Not that that’d stopped him being chosen for this mission. The employer having sent Julia to him with the material. He felt his stomach clench. Around the hard, finger length capsule in his gut. Just for once… Andy wished he was […]
<— Previous ~~~~~ Have you ever rained down from a volcano? Graham hadn’t, not until they base-jumped from the tower amongst the new thermals which smashed them downward. Shades had thrown him something like a poncho and told him, “it knows what to do.” Blessed fashion, he thought, at least it knows what to do. […]
<— Previous ~~~~~ Earlier that night, they’d taken a train to the hit. High on metamphetamines—on ultra-caff—they sleeked through the tiled wetroom of the London Underground; the non-Euclidean geometry of it. Graham had always believed that it brought cottage industry needle work to mind. Or blue, French pastoral china. He had not thought to laugh […]
<— Previous ~~~~~ * * * * * At the Indian dance she sat to his left, a little behind him, but leaning forward into his row. Turning her nose from a tepid splash of scentless sweat—from the jewelled net of inverted bubbles cast by the performers—they started to talk business. They spoke over the […]