“I had some school days. Back at the start. Little bits and pieces anyway. There wasn’t much book learning to be had when I was growing up. On account of my situation, you know?”
I’ve read the files. Understand all that’s been recorded about her circumstances. The next steps involve a deeper apprehension.
“Remember the Crusades,” she says. Continue reading
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“I torched an orphanage one time,” she says. “None of the kids were harmed. We just stood outside and watched and laughed whilst the deep-red bright-yellow flames took the whole of that horrible place down to the ground.”
I don’t have anything to offer.
“When the constables arrived—after the fire brigade and the one unnecessary ambulance—everyone said it was me. The kids all bold and happy with the fact, you know? Proud that I had rescued them from everything that went on there. They thought the grown-ups would understand. Be grateful.”
A pause while she lights another cigarette. No matches. She just holds it between her fingers and the end sparks and catches just-so. If there’s a trick to it I don’t see how it’s done. Something chemical or… Continue reading
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Some folks legged it out of London when the hammer fell. Bright star falling from a blue sky, slamming down; down to earth out past the edge of Regent’s Park. A deep and horrible shudder of thudding impact. You could feel it in your bones and teeth. No flash or explosion as such, not from where I stood, but soon a pall of smoke as high as heaven twisting up above the spires and tower blocks. Screams and sirens floating out on the shivering air. A lot of people left right then. Not for stayin’ put, were they? Not hanging around to see what’s next.
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