By Robert Devereaux
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Extra info for A Flight of Storks and Angels
From behind, Mike’s left hand gripped Ward’s jaw. Was he going to break his neck? Then his right cheek frosted and burned with the sudden smack of Mike’s right hand. His ear stung where the blow caught it. “Give it here,” Mike said, a cool breeze as he passed by. For someone who didn’t work out, Big Mike was stocky and tightly packed, a faded black t-shirt veeing into his jeans behind a wide leather belt. Looking straight into Patti’s eyes, he clicked the knife closed and tossed it on the bed. Ward saw a pink bra hanging on the bedpost, hints of nipple beneath Patti’s sweater.
No scuffle, no screams or cries. Calvin stood there a moment, then decided he didn’t want to be upstairs for a while, maybe for hours. Maybe he’d hang out in City Park for the afternoon, give Mike lots of time to have his fun and kick Ward out, so Calvin wouldn’t have to look at him after the betrayal. He walked downstairs as though on eggshells, muffled music above, the voice of Luke what’s-it on TV caught in a shouting match with his parents. As he reached the lower landing, Dad looked up from the TV room.
Honestly, now. ” “Disgraceful. People fill their minds with trash and he gets paid to produce it, empty-headed boobs escaping real problems by imagining they’re elves or knights or some similar idiocy. Drones. You should see the human garbage that wanders into City Hall asking if this is where T. E. Jameson lives. The man brings nothing but notoriety to this town. ” Harold paused. “I picked up one of his books in the library once. ” Another look. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response.
A Flight of Storks and Angels by Robert Devereaux