Tag Archives: excerpt

Chapter 18 [The Wharf]

Evan was in his room now, hurriedly unloading the cardboard boxes he’d hauled up earlier as Laurent now managed to gather himself and join him upstairs opposite. Pabst knelt hard into the concrete floor as he threw open in clockwise succession and emptied the contents of Kita’s bespoke IDW-skirting beer consoles onto the general floor area behind the defensive wall of LC sofas he had fashioned 30s previous. Everything went dark. From over on the open wall-panel side of the compound came a brash Far East Asian whooooouuuooooooouh!!!!!!, and now from up above a clear keeeel zem allllll!!!! was audible. There was silence save the whooping of the dogs that had now swelled to Cerberian proportions. The boys waited.


Chapter 8 [The Wharf]

The surfaces his fingers deciphered were wet and alien. As he felt along the curious terrain, a few fingers slipped into a strange cavity and hit something warm and squishy. It was his tongue. He withdrew his hand and held it up, and it was painted red and globules of red matter glazed his fingers here and there. The Chihuahua barked and splashed in the pooling blood before bounding up his chest, covering the man in miniature red paw prints. He confusedly reached to brush it away with the gun, still held weakly in his right hand, but it danced playfully and growled and buried its head down into a place to the left of his blurry vision.

Chapter 11 [The Wharf]

The grotto’s influx of frothy golden mugs and output of emptied translucent ones was supernatural.

Chapter 4 [The Wharf]

“Otsukare sama de——ssss.” Sana recited routinely and half-bowed in the general direction of the remaining crew members trickling out of the studio, formal closing salutations already completed. The night air was crisp in Odaiba and a strong breeze assailed her with the scent of salt water. The moon reflected in a stretched, distorted pattern across the convex curve of the massive Fuji globe that hung high overhead. Sana’s personal manager approached, face tired as usual at the end of a long work day (he’d been awake for at least twenty hours already) and reminded her of where and at what time she needed to be tomorrow.

Chapter 16 [The Wharf]

Manabe turned to face him. Behind him a smaller garden displayed a lonely, exquisite EverpinkTM Sakura tree, fallen petals sprinkling the hushed moss greens of the garden’s floor, already near the end of a preprogrammed shedding cycle (the fifth or sixth Manabe had enjoyed this year). This was the first time Shade’d seen an EverpinkTM with his own eyes, having only read, or more accurately skimmed, about the trees’ R&D in one of the biotech printed periodicals he still received via post a while back.

“Nice tree.”

“Thanks, have a seat.” Manabe had now risen to his full height and crossed his arms and tilted his head back, looking Shade over as if he hadn’t seen him in some time.

Chapter 3 [The Wharf]

“It’s great to see you two together again!” one of the hoodlums shouted, raising the open can in his hand in the direction of the garaged men, and the others cheered and echoed the sentiment. The gang hung there for a moment, offering salutations and shoulder pats before festooning down the street, out of sight.

“It seems like everything’s changed these days.” Shade lamented to Igor as he moved to leave.

“None of the old constants. Everyone’s up and left, or gone up North.”

“Watch out you don’t get pinched.” Shade cautioned.

“Hey, the police are coming to me. I’m keeping them off your back, over old qualms.”

“Yeah right. Later, Igor.” Shade shouted over his shoulder as he exited the open garage doorway into the night, turning around just before he dipped out of view to see Igor again already bent over his work, shimmering shreds flying.

Chapter 14 [The Wharf]

He grabbed the archaic fishing rod (the first rod he’d ever fished with, and the rod he’d used every time thereafter on the boat of the old fisherman whom he’d befriended soon after he became a loyal (if regrettably only seasonal) patron of easily the best bar along the Atami Coast, where one could enjoy a pint or ten and a few whiskey neats and hear stories of the good ol’ days when the fish were prehistorically overgrown and Mercury meant a planet) with strong callused hands and leaned back for all he was worth, jerking heavy plastitwine© fishing line sharply as he hugged the unpadded exposed wood rod to his center, hoping to hook the hell out of whatever had been pulling Ol’ Sally down so hard. 

Chapter 12 [The Wharf]

O? Moshikashitara? Are ga tarinain janai? Hmm? Could it be? Might we be lacking a certain something? His giraffe head was pointed in the direction of the brightly-lit 24h sakaya across the street. The boys phalanxed the intersection, the frail, wobbling Minami guarded on all sides, toward the decrepit ammo depot, where she followed one step behind Kita through the thin metal-framed plexiglass door with a click clack of heels on tile.

Chapter 4 [The Wharf]

And now, the honorable guests who correctly reply to the next challenge shall win the chance to indulge in this Thirty Year Fall Limited Edition Three Times Glazed Premium Danish ham.

The 20+ inch super serrated titanium alloy blade glistened under the studio’s overbright ceilings of super-incandescents as it glided down and back and forth in thirty-minutes-previous-to-shooting-practiced strokes through the millenia-cooked ungulate flesh, juices seeping from all seams of separated sliced sinew and collecting in the basin of the plentifully parsleyed, lettuce-leafed stainless steel serving platter. Sana held the knife with two hands, bracelets clinking around thin wrists as she thrusted and pulled.

Chapter 11 [The Wharf]

Benz pakuro-ze!!” Let’s steal it! Erika squealed, one fist in the air, stumbling out of her right shoe as its heel compacted and stuck squarely in one of the slits of a sewer-duct’s street-cap.

“Dame daro, omae, kitto ushiro de ecchi shitendaze!” Tomu tapped on the near-black rear glass, leaning in to within cm. of the pane’s surface and attempting, in vain, to examine the space within. You’re crazy! There’s sure to be someone in the back getting some action!”

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