“He should be fine, now, OK?” Brandy says, handing Oscar back to me. The little jerk immediately puts his paw on my boob and sits up, which he hasn’t been willing or able to do in a week. “He just needed some doggy chiropractic lovin’.”
“Great, thanks, Brandy. How much do I owe ya?” Not that I care, since it’s a tax writeoff anyway. All the money I spend on the rescue dachshunds, that’s an above the line deduction. Plus the whole thing got easier when I started working for Chiaroscuro full time instead of Caliginosis. Holly loves having the pups in the office, says they calm everybody down. Not that anyone needs calming but Cali.
“Hell with it,” Angus says, pushing his chair back from the desk. Common Sense, in its scabbard, bumps against the wheels of the chair. “I want a damned hot dog and I’ll by the gods have one.” Continue reading
The village had no doctors when I came. Continue reading
“She could’ve had an abortion, of course,” Deborah says, brushing white-blonde hair behind her ear. “Even though it wasn’t legal then. But she didn’t.” Continue reading
[disclaimer: when I write in a world I try to write standalone pieces that all fit into a puzzle, but this might add some context.]
“’When did you know you were lost?’ he asked.” Yong shoves Deon with his elbow as he repeats Sam’s question. Deon shoves back, ignoring the prompt, and they both almost go off the deck and into the pool. So I guess it’s up to me to answer. Continue reading
Sit down, Jackie-me-lad. We’ve eaten, and I’ve whiskey enough. I know you’ve no family on the base, but Mrs. Wesson felt called to discuss the matter with me so I’ll be your Irish uncle today, never you mind that you’re dating my daughter. I hear Sam’s to apologize for speaking so, and that’s well and good. It’s the thing he won’t speak of that I’ll tell you tonight. Continue reading