Morningstar (part 1)

I have a year long plan. This month is dedicated to writing. Allenie took a practice swing with the mace and wondered again if the whole thing was going to be worth it.  Shaking off her doubt, she turned to the shopkeeper. “Have you got anything I can test it with?”  Oily with smiles, he directed Allenie to a back room hung full of carcases.  Idly twirling the mace she strolled between bodies, looking for a target.  She called over her shoulder.  “Any prime rib you want me to leave…

It’s The Little Things

I have a year long plan. This month is dedicated to writing. Ellis fidgeted at her desk, trying to concentrate on her report.  Touch-typing, she watched the door of the break room while keying out familiar phrases. “Inventory ordered automatically, acknowledged and charged to company following S.O.P. for . . . .” There, Doyle was finally going to lunch.  Empty tea mug in hand, he sauntered through the swinging door.  Ellis continued typing, fingers firm on the keys. “When received, stock was found to be a mis-ship.  The supplier’s packing…

In Search For The King

I have a year long plan. This month is dedicated to writing. They could follow the stag’s path with infrared and sonic trackers.  Spy eyes ran regular sweeps, sending data of what little movement filtered through the dense forest.  Nonetheless, they had yet to come within an arrow’s distance of the animal.  There was considerable worry, bordering on panic, in the upper levels of the administration.  Everything had been tried, and it kept eluding them. The newly-wed, newly-widowed queen was distraught.  If there had been an argument that precipitated the…

The Devil’s Music

The two girls, even if they’d saved their pin money for months, couldn’t have afforded the box seats.  Elaine—the oldest of the two, having just turned seventeen—turned to their chaperone and benefactor, her grey eyes shining.  “Oh Doña Absalom, thank you again for bringing us with you. I think Gillian and I will be grateful to you absolutely until the end of time.”  The older girl applied a gentle elbow to the ribs of her friend, bringing Gillian’s awestruck gaze from the opera hall to the bemused carmine smile of…

The Christian War

I really need to learn to stop telling people that I’m Palestinian. It invariably creates questions and conversations at times when I’d much rather just be reading while waiting for the bus or train. Do real Jewish people get asked by strangers with unsettling regularity for confirmation of their stereotypical genetic markers? I have never had someone react quite the way a woman at my morning bus stop did last Monday, however. Here, let me set it up: Every workday I walk from home in the old residential area of…