by Hyakunichisou 13 (百日草 十三) (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/335333.html) Bryan set the coffee cup down on the narrow shelf that served as a desk in the corridor between the storage room and the kitchen. “Whatcha doing? I thought you were going to take a break.” “Mm. I think I figured out how we can do a daily […]
Tag Archives: hyakunichisou 13
30
Mar
It’s only too late if you don’t start now
by Hyakunichisou 13 (百日草 十三) (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/332875.html) Myra hadn’t been planning the day for years, exactly, but she had thought about it on a regular basis, the way she thought about Christmas every year in June, as an inevitability too far off to really start worrying about. People she knew had done crazy things, gone […]
21
Feb
Another pair of hands
by Hyakunichisou 13 (百日草 十三) (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/329614.html) By the time Daniel got the thing called the bonnet nut unscrewed and the thing called the faucet stem pulled out, his hands were sweating badly enough to slip on the wrench handle. He rubbed his palms on what had been a decent pair of jeans, several months […]
31
Dec
Six warm nights at the end of October
by Hyakunichisou 13 (百日草 十三) (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/323265.html) Peter heard the crush of van wheels on the gravel of the parking spot just as he was dropping the last handful of cubed zucchini into the pot. He reached over to unlock the back door, and in a moment Duncan creaked the aluminium screen door open, bringing […]
28
Oct
The Shadow in the classroom
by Hyakunichisou 13 (百日草 十三) (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/322751.html) The village’s two blocks formed a figure eight. Duncan drove around it a few times, getting the lay of the land. Main drag, lined by Victorian brick in various stages of neglect and restoration. Left past the feed co-op and the stone foundations of the long-ago mill, left […]
26
Aug
Fubar at Achernar Station
by Hyakunichisou 13 (百日草 十三) (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/317880.html) Look, it’s not even remotely all my fault. There’s more than enough fubar to go around on this one. And let’s be honest, the universe enjoys fucking with us, and some days, it comes in for seconds while you’re still catching your breath and wondering where your skivvies […]
22
Jul
An unexpected stay in Highbridge Town
by Hyakunichisou 13 (百日草 十三) (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/311724.html) The rain was a light, steady whisper on the roof of the caravan. Beyond that, the camp had settled into its night-time quiet, punctuated by whuffs from the horse tent, and the occasional bang of a latrine door. Even the habitual carousers had settled down; Highbridge Town to […]
24
Jun
A beginner’s guide to stealing home
by Hyakunichisou 13 (百日草 十三) (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/311099.html) Arthur made a one-handed grab for the ball. It bounced off his fingertip, gaining momentum, and ricocheted off the edge of the peeling bleacher bench. He had time for another wild, futile lunge before it skipped along the foot plank, veered, and rolled through the gap. Making an […]
22
Apr
Aidan and the Course of History
by Hyakunichisou 13 (百日草 十三) (mirrors by http://s2b2.livejournal.com/305439.html) By the time they reached the bridge, Aidan was regretting having been so greedy in the art supply store. He’d known he was going to pay for the sketchbooks, and had been considering what clothing he could survive the journey without even when he’d been piling them […]
25
Mar
Invisible data
by Hyakunichisou 13 (百日草 十三) (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/302156.html) User 395890 I’m holding a key in my hand, and I drop it at the same time. I’m standing in the ocean, and I can see it lying on the bottom, on the wave-patterned sand. I bend over, but even though the water only comes up to my […]
25
Feb
The Journey
Welcome to The Silkworm, where we feature stories spun live and unedited. Just as a reminder, this podcast is part of our Crimson series, which contains explicit material that may not be suitable for some listeners.
Tonight’s story comes to you from Daniel Costain, who spoke at our open mic night at the Wherever You Go Café in Toronto. The theme of the night was On the Way.
25
Dec
Everyone goes through the door
by Hyakunichisou 13 (百日草 十三) (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/294425.html) Peter wouldn’t have recognized what the man was doing if he hadn’t seen it done before. Lips briefly moving, eyes briefly closing, a lingering touch of fingertips to the metal in front of him. A smile warming the man’s face, a little hopeful, a little wistful. Then he […]
22
Oct
Ship in a Bottle
“Look, Edgerton left his coat,” said one clerk, pulling it from the hook in the convenient modern closet the new building’s architects had included in the office.
The other snorted. “I doubt he’ll be coming back for it, after that exit.”
“It’s good enough cloth.” The first rubbed the dense boiled wool between thumb and fingers.
“To hear him tell it, he could buy a hundred coats tomorrow and never feel a dent.”
“Hmm. It’ll never fit me.” The clerk glanced over. “It’ll never fit you.”
“Yes, yes, I am short, thank you for reminding me. Why is Edgerton’s abandoned coat any concern of yours?”
“We binned thirty years of flotsam and jetsam when we moved. Why do we have to immediately start cluttering the new place up?” The clerk stretched out a long arm and dropped the coat on the farthest hook at the back of the closet. “If it’s still here in the spring, I’ll bundle it up for the church rummage sale. Don’t let me forget.”
25
Jun
A Chain of Beads
So it’s one of them crystal mornings of early summer, and the sunlight coming in through the clerestory like it was poured from a pitcher. And I’m sort of thinking what to do about that one drainpipe on the eastern students’ dormitory that keeps coming loose at the same damn spot, but mostly I’m thinking that Frael is a beautiful country but you’d be hard-pressed the long and the wide of it to find someone don’t make a cup of tea tastes like they waved the leaves over the pot and put them away again for later.
I miss the commotion of him running in, but then there’s Master Caerel breathless at my elbow, saying, Goodman Stone, I don’t mean to interrupt your breakfast, but there is a situation in the entry hall in which we could use the assistance of someone like yourself.
23
Apr
Programming
Lewis picked Cam up in the Personal Services annex of The Mercantile.
“Hey,” he said. “I’m Lewis.”
The young man stood and smiled. “Cam.” Their screens, Lewis knew, were running an interchange right now. He was about to thumb his on to check, but Cam put out his hand as though this were a social meeting, and Lewis shook it out of uncomfortable reflex.
He’d had some difficulty with the specs. The number and exoticism of the choices had been discomfiting, and so he’d settled on the comfortable middle range for most of them. Medium tan skin, dark hair, brown eyes; jaw and cheekbones moulded to give a plausible hint of all kinds of mixed ancestry. Reasonably good-looking, but not stunning. Haircut fashionable but not outre, a soft angle falling to a point over one eye. Clothing mutedly stylish. Smile welcoming but not forceful. A name that could have been short for something in a dozen languages. Confident, but non-intimidating.
“So,” Lewis said, “I thought we could pick up some dinner.” It wasn’t as if he didn’t know these things.
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
Lewis took him to a ramen place he enjoyed but didn’t go to often because they didn’t deliver and he hated going into restaurants to pick up. As they ate, Cam talked to him as though they were old friends reuniting, asking questions about Lewis’s job and his experiences in the city, salting in references to serial releases and odd events in the news. Lewis had been wondering if conversation with a hybrid might be a little uncanny, the illusion of an independent personality wavering under too close an observation. But the only strange thing he noticed was that Cam quoted two paragraphs more or less verbatim from a Glass Shelf review of the most recent Long Galaxy’s Journey (season sixteen, episode eight, and in Lewis’s opinion, that had been ridiculously out of character for Shoshanna, and the serial had been showing its age since Temperance Jasmine had been brought on as showrunner). That wasn’t really that weird. Lewis had probably done something similar himself.
Out on the sidewalk, with the crisp breeze smacking the backs of their necks and neon sputtering above their heads, Lewis said, “So, do you want to see my place?”
Cam smiled. “Yes, I would very much like to see your place.”
