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Edge of Thorns - Pt 3Part 3
You know, I haven't had Chinese in ages, and as tempting as that pretzel sounds, I'm really craving me some sesame chicken...
"I think I'm going to need something more filling than a coffee and pretzels," Nathan said, smiling at Alton. "Which way to Chinese?"
The other man laughed and lazily pointed out the window. "You'll want to turn right out of my shop, go straight through the next intersection, and turn right again at the corner of Midas Street and Banner Avenue. You should be able to spot the Golden Frog with no problem."
Nathan nodded, committing the directions to memory as he started towards the door. "Thanks, for letting me use the phone and the info. Uh, I guess see you later."
"Yes, see you later."
Nathan hesitated for a moment before leaving. The way he'd said that... he shook it off. Alton was a nice guy. He'd offered a complete stranger the use of his business phone, and even given him directions. Nathan knew he really needed to get past his discomfor
Edge of Thorns - Pt 2Part 2
As much as I hate to admit it, the more time I waste getting to the police station, the less of a chance I have to get my car back. I should have just called from the newspaper's office, but it's too late for that now. I guess I'll just have to suck it up and go with him.
Gives me more time to figure out why he makes me uneasy, at least.
"Well... I guess that makes sense," Nathan said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just around the corner, you say?"
Alton nodded, smiling eagerly. He shifted the books he was carrying to his other arm and motioned for Nathan to follow him, starting down the sidewalk. "Actually, it's one store down from the shop at the intersection up ahead, but that's close enough. Mind if I ask your name?"
"No, not at all!" he lied, jogging to catch up with him, cringing that he now had to tell him. "It's Nathan."
"Nathan..." Alton hummed and chuckled a bit, looking over his shoulder towards him. "I'm sorry for your unfortunate, uh, welcome to Virtu
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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