I thought that was pretty terrific and full of common sense, indisputable facts, and an eloquent but humble delivery. The most graceful response from the Republicans would have been a “yeah, the future is important to us too, and we do think working together to build a good one is an excellent idea.”
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"(On the writing F&SF workshop) Wanted to crow and say thanks: the first story I wrote after taking your class was my very first sale. Coincidence? nah….thanks so much."
Here’s something from the current piece. For fellow West Seattleites, the coffee shop in question is indeed the Admiral Bird. This is a sequel to “The Wizards of West Seattle,” which is available in Neither Here Nor There, just out this week!
“You need to stop holding a grudge about it,” Penny said.
Albert snorted. “You tried to kill me!”
“I’m a demon. That’s my nature. And it was one of the old lady’s tests. You don’t need to worry about me any more.”
Albert didn’t say anything, but he was unconvinced. In the months since he’d become apprentice to May Huang, one of the wizards of West Seattle, he’d faced several tests, but none as harrowing as that long chase down Alaska Way towards Alki with a long-faced and eager Penny on his heels. Only his encounter and subsequent alliance with Mr. Gray had put a stop to that, and Albert was still unsure what the consequences of that would be.
Penny mocked him. She manifested as a bright-eyed woman of indeterminate age, her face sharp-featured. “Oh, Penny, you’re so scary, oh Penny I can never unsee what I have seen, oh Penny please don’t eat my soul.”
“I’m unclear why don’t eat my soul is an unreasonable demand.”
“I’m just saying, you don’t need to worry about it. Anyhow, Huang wants me to teach you about oracles.”
They were walking down California Ave, passing the Admiral Theater. They both saluted the Little Free Library there, Penny with a graceful curtsey, Albert’s bow slightly more awkward, as they passed.
“I know how oracles work,” Albert said smugly. “That’s how I knew you were something other than human. I found the Oracle, left a crayon in his path.”
“He’s powerful because of the limitations on his magic,” Penny said. “Being able to use only found objects is pretty severe. But there are other routes.” She pointed. “We’re headed to the Bird. I need coffee.”
“Isn’t that a flower shop?”
“And here you have a principle of oracles. Anywhere boundaries blur, they can manifest.”
He’d passed the store a hundred times on walks and seen the flower shop sign, but closer inspection proved the front was a coffee shop, shifting into flowers in the back as seamlessly as two interior shots Photoshopped together.
At the counter Penny ordered coffee but Albert shook his head when she glanced at him. She shrugged. He looked around: dinette tables and chairs, an old truck serving as coffee table, pictures on the wall, the frames the size of his hand, enclosing stamp-sized pictures. He went closer to look.
Each was a scene from West Seattle: the shore at Lincoln Park, the overlook near Huang’s house, the playground at Hiawatha, drawn in fine-nibbed pen and colored in jewel-colored inks that made each one, a summer’s day, come alive. They were as bright and lovely as the day outside, and he craved one of them instantly.
A little label by the cluster said, “Enquire at the register about the price.” He went back to where Penny was counting out her bills.
He waited till she was done and asked the woman at the counter, “Excuse me, how much are the pictures?”
She tilted her head, considering him. He was suddenly conscious of the smear of yogurt from this morning’s breakfast on the knee of his jeans, the fact that he hadn’t bothered to shave, and his “Uncle Ike’s Pot Shop” t-shirt.
Let me know what you think! Patreon supporters, you get to be the first ones to see the finished version. 😉
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...
I’m on fire! was my first thought.
Then “” some very stupid part of me bubbled up But look at how pretty the blue edges flicker “” and then panic overwhelmed me again as some lizard part of my brain scrambled to get out of the way of I’M ON FIRE.
Everyone else was doing so, and it looked as though they hadn’t lost any seconds to contemplation of the prettiness. Wren had drawn up short, ten feet away, her fists balled as she stared at me, the two new guys on either side, each with a hand on her shoulder. They exchanged glances, blinked as though surprised, and stepped back. Wren kept staring. She swallowed, and the snake tattooed along the side of her neck writhed.
The troupe is half human, half Underpeople, though June’s as human as they come. The latter hate flame, most of them, it’s hardwired in. Most of them faded towards the back of the crowd and one of the mini elephants squealed admonition in the scuffle of movement.
Roto was the only one who came forward. His eyes were wide and panicked, his lips curled back in alignment to his stiffly leaning ears, his whiskers silver lines against his dark cheeks.
He said, “Meg, what’s happening?”
It was so unfair. How was I supposed to know what was happening? I didn’t have a clue. I opened my mouth to say that, but all that came out was an agonized shriek, even though I felt no physical pain. It was just a howl of frustration and want and loneliness, all the loneliness of having the circus as my family but no one mine, no one bound to me by blood, so I never knew where I’d fit.
Something cool around my shoulders. June, wrapping me in a silvery blanket.
“I need you to take a deep breath,” she said.
I tried, but the sound kept coming out.
She laid her hand over mine. “Breathe.”
Flames danced over her skin where it touched mine. The blue fabric of her jacket began to smolder, flaring orange and sparking along the line of the hem.
“Breathe.“
Nothing physical but that coolness against my back, as though the blanket were drawing the flame inside it. But in my head, something slammed down so all my consciousness went to breathing, to the act of pulling in the air, feeling it rush into me, my ribs dwelling to contain as much as possible, holding it for a beat and then releasing…
“Okay,” June said. “Okay, Meg.”
I blinked. The flames were gone, but the hem of her jacket still flared orange one last second before dying away.
“You’re tired. I’m putting you in Nursie.”
I tried to protest. Riding in Nursie was boring beyond belief. One of her settings had gone wonky and she treated everyone as though they were a six-year-old. But at the same time, I realized, it sounded so good, lying down in darkness and not thinking for a while.
Before I knew it, I was tucked in Nursie’s depths. Vanilla scented mist sprayed down around the couch.
“Now I’m going to tell you the story of the Brave Little Kitten,” she announced.
That was all right. At least it was one of the comprehensible stories. But something else caught my attention. I rolled closer to the hatch opening, trying to hear out.
Outside, June shouting.
“All right! These fellows either lair nearby or they’re affiliated with the town.”
Nursie said, “Once upon a time “””
“Wait,” I said. “Nursie, can I have a drink of water first?”
The story paused as a cup rattled into the dispenser and began to fill.
June said, “Either way, we can’t go back “” you know that as well as I “” and it’s better to make these disappear and keep moving rather than have others come look and find us with them.”
Muffled agreement. Nursie said, “Drink your water, Meg.”
I drank it as slowly as I could, but all I heard were doors slamming and engines starting again. I felt dizzy. It was hard to swallow.
Warm vanilla sprayed me again as I set the cup down.
Nursie said, “Blood pressure dropping.”
Something snaked from the ceiling towards me. I heard Nursie’s voice, as though from a very far distance. “Administering sedation.”
...
