If money was the root of all evil, then wine must surely be a close second.
Jasper gazed through the rosy depths of the wine glass in his hand, observing the scene beyond with quiet detachment. Wine had always mellowed him, left him with a feeling a pleasurable distance from his surroundings, as though nothing that happened would effect him at all. He remembered his girlfriend's anger at his apparent coldness when she informed him of her condition, the way she had yelled and screamed and beat her fists against him as he silently took in her news, analysed the...
His dive, performed in front of the small, half-drunk dinner party, was perfect in his mind. He'd had a few martinis at dinner, his wife looking at him strangely over her chardonnay. But he was on a roll that night. And Joyce had come with that husband of hers, Jerry, and had shot him her own looks as he went on about this and that. Sometimes the words came spilling out in a beautiful procession. Tonight, he was on.
Then the whole group wandered out to the backyard after he had told them he was going to perform the dive...
The beam swept across the water. The waves glistened in the darkness, tiny bumps of light in front of the tall tower. Her eyes had been scanning the glistening waters ever since the sun had set and she had realised his boat was not moored at the jetty with the others. Guy and Tom had walked along its wooden boards, dropped their eyes and tugged their caps when they'd seen her, but they'd made no mention of him. She'd almost called out after them, asked them where he was, but stopped herself before the his name could push itself from...
Lost but he couldn't stop hearing those footsteps, in his mind. They kept going on and on. Jack could hear his footsteps echoing.
Jack sat there engulfed in smoke – hoping the ash-filled clouds would somehow shield him from the pain.
Her body flew through the air, so unnaturally, like a bird caught in a tornado. The blood cascading down her forehead like a waterfall of emotion.
Her delicate face was transformed into a mask – a crimson mask of blood and agony. The smell of burnt rubber and panic in the air. It was electric. Why did she have...
Mistress Pog looked round, surprised by the old woman's prescience. Mortals were so impressed by what could be achieved with good hearing, and actually listening.
"Will! Did you follow me?" she stabbed an accusation at him like hog's fat hitting a skillet.
"No Pog, I have… unfinished business of my own with Old Meg" he said quietly, fingering a small bottle shaped lump in his purse.
The farmer stepped lively into the now rather cramped hovel. There didn't seem room to fit any air in the room. That or the witch wouldn't need a fire to roast a rabbit, from...
The ransom never came, poor fools.
The two kidnappers waited with young Jacob Cartee standing between them. The boy looked well, unhurt by the men who'd taken him. That was good. James despised child abusers. "In ten," James said softly, speaking into the mike on his collar.
He shifted his weight, noted the direction of the wind. Slowly, he inhaled as he gazed through the scope on his M99. Time counted down. At "one" he exhaled and pulled the trigger. One of the kidnappers - he'd taken to calling him Ogre - went down instantly. A second bullet escaped the...
The child wanted the bully's red bicycle, but he knew to take it away would be going against a pecking order that had been around forever.
He walked up to the bully, who was sitting on the slightly oversized bike, and asked if he could ride it.
The bully squinted at him as he spoke, acting as though he couldn't hear him. As though the child had no voice at all.
"Get away from me," the bully said.
The child assured him that he only wanted to try the bike so he could tell his father if that was the...
A paradigm shift: when you entire worldview changes. When something reaches into your mind and bends the part of your brain that had decided this was how you were going to live your life. You came across something that makes you think. It's impossible to get out of your head and all of the sudden you realize that you are not who you were before; that your life is not going in the direction you wanted it to, but you're okay with that. In fact, you find yourself preferring this new way of looking at life. You realize that the...
She didn't look at him; she looked past him, half closing her eyes as if basking in the sunlight. She was really trying to cut him from her vision altogether, the better to scry into the future he was pulling them towards. This had been his idea, his romantic idea: "Let's hire one of those rowing boats and take it down the river."
The top of his head dipped in and out of her frame of vision as he pulled them through the water.
"Tell me if I'm going to hit anything," he panted. "I can't see where I'm going."...
Twist. Twist. Twist. The doorknob wouldn't turn. The door wouldn't open. And then Liz would find out why Sebastian was keeping her in his bathroom. It was a nice bathroom, the blue tiles matched the fluffy towels and everything was clean. Still locking someone in the bathroom wasn't proper etiquette. Proper etiquette was texting someone or calling them, and asking if they wanted to discuss their differences over coffee. Being polite wasn't tossing someone over their shoulder and locking them in their bathroom with an ominous "I'll be back."
Aargh. She was going to kill Sebastian for locking her in...