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Son of a Bitch

Continued from The Ass Returns.

“You two aren’t going to get anything done just staring at that snake.  It’s not too big, is it?  I could have beaten it off by now.” The ever-filthy wanderer, Piper, observed with bored eyes.  His ever-present flute case rested on his lap as he leaned forward to watch.  Crooked teeth bit at the tip of his thumb in irritation. “At this rate, that little snake will eat one of you for dinner.”

Leopold growled.  He was injured and exhausted.  The ‘little snake’ was at least four times his size, and apparently without weakness.  It drew back, ready to strike at the young man directly in front of him.

“Worthless.” Piper grunted. Read the rest of this entry »

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The Ass Returns

Continued from Oh Shit.

Edaline returned to her father’s house as an unwed woman.  Her maidenhead broken, she had little hopes of a new marriage, and her father treated her coolly, while her mother coddled her.  There she waited for the man she didn’t expect to come.  The days became weeks, and she began to lose hope.  Should she return to her husband?  For a few days, she debated it, and even began to pack.  If he didn’t accept her return, she would be without hope for a future that lacked shame.

She stopped packing.  She needed answers too badly.  She would remain, and she would wait. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on February 22, 2013 in Semihistorical Fiction

 

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The Joy of a Mask

Slowly, I stared at the crowd I expected myself to mingle among.  They were boisterous and happy.  They were open and free.  I turned my face to one side and looked in the mirror.  I was a miserable young woman.  My face was closed, and my lips pursed.  I looked every bit dour.

With a deep breath, I decided to become someone else.  Someone who could be loved.  I eliminated my breasts with careful binding and wore a man’s clothes.  A laced tunic and trousers would be fine, with some grand boots, as well.  My outfit was dark in hue, to contrast my light hair. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on February 1, 2013 in Modern Fiction

 

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Distorted Reflections

The difficult part of my plan was at hand.  I knew that the masked hero was the prince of the kingdom.  I knew that he was on his way to deal with me personally.  I knew that he knew everything about me.  So, I waited at the far end of a quarry.  To my back, the sheer face, and to my front, a wide, open area where Prince Rivara would challenge me to a duel once he arrived.

I slowed my breathing and slowly checked myself in a mirror.  My lips were stained red, and my cheeks were rosy.  I looked every bit like the woman he remembered from his childhood.  A small smile of pride tugged at my lips.  His mother’s dress hugged my form as I looked down.  I tucked my mirror into the small bag that hung from my wrist and sat to wait. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on January 29, 2013 in Semihistorical Fiction

 

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Well, shit.

Continued from Oops.

The day of Young Lady Edaline Starrik’s anniversary of birth arrived on a day filled with clouds and rain.  Piper packed away his flute before the sun rose.  He dressed quickly and began to walk off.  He avoided the roads as he took a more direct route through field and forest.  The scruffy man intended to arrive first, and walked quickly.  At times, he ran when he heard others.

Branches gripped and pulled at his clothing.  New rips and tears formed.  He held his cape in place after a reminder that a yanked cape caused difficulty when he tried to breathe.

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Posted by on January 2, 2013 in Semihistorical Fiction

 

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Oops

The bride screamed.  Her flawless wedding day was ruined.  Another shrill scream echoed through the small castle chapel.  Tears ran down the bride’s pale face.  The liquid cut through the silver-and-pearl powder, leaving trails of flushed red flesh.  She stood alone near the small, glowing orb and the traveling priest.  A third scream caused the assembled family and friends of the would-be-bride to shift uncomfortably in their benches.

Never before had they witnessed such unrestrained emotion in the young lady.  Finally, the girl’s mother stood and walked to her daughter.  She embraced her tightly and led her away.  With her own body, she shielded the sobbing young bride from sight.

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Posted by on January 2, 2013 in Semihistorical Fiction

 

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