The golden lizard man farthest to the left withdrew a scroll from his robe's white bell sleeve and unfurled it to read. “The hearing for the settlement of debt for the Debtor named Kyle Thompson---” Mario blurted. “Kyle?!” Cayn hissed faintly to warn him to be silent. The muscle of jailer’s square jaw bulged. His … Continue reading The Dragon King’s Medic (pt. 4)
Miss Hunt glared in betrayal and disgust. “Zvonko...” I glanced emphatically at Zvonko. When he leaned in, I said, "She must be convinced." Nodding, Zvonko elbowed past me and went to stand before the bar's owner. Just then, I heard my name among the conversation somewhere behind me. Someone who knew me had spotted me. … Continue reading Skill, Luck, and Terrible Ideas (pt. 5)
After mandatory introductions, the smiling female announcer named Journey held up a hand and brought the live audience's cheers to a stop. She wore a black pant suit and fashionable short-heeled ankle boots. Her short hair, dyed tropical turquoise, was spiked. “First!” She said into her microphone, “A little backstory. Yesterday the terms of today's even … Continue reading The Frying Pan (pt. 5)
Inside the cell fifteen minutes later, Mario looked on curiously as Cayn was crouched over a colossal pile of manacles of various sizes, shapes, and weights. The metal restraints clinked and jangled as the jailer handled one after another. He was searching for a perfect pair but none of them appeared to have been made with … Continue reading The Dragon King’s Medic (pt. 3)
I sat down cross legged on the bare floor as Zvonko lit a candle on the nightstand. Wearing only his trousers, he was perched on the edge of a bed that looked as comfortable as rocks. His entire torso was bound in bandages. Irregular blotches of blood had seeped through in several places, dried black, though … Continue reading Skill, Luck, and Terrible Ideas (pt. 4)
Supreme Sorcerer Grant King admired his three piece suit before a full length mirror. “Supreme Sorcerer” wasn’t a legal title. Yet. Once he became ruler of the world, he would make it legal and give it to himself. He leaned into the mirror for a better look. Hair, perfect. Smile, perfect. Black dress shoes, as … Continue reading The Frying Pan (pt. 4)
Mario's body felt heavy. The floor pressed against his back, head and limbs. Hard and cold. The misplaced taste of stale, dank air roused him. Oww my body hurts. The last thing he remembered was sitting in his car. However, he didn’t recall ever getting back out. Why would he be outside his car, sprawled … Continue reading The Dragon King’s Medic (pt. 2)
Lally exited the charts office carrying several rolled maps under his arm. His straw hat was cocked back on his short dark hair away from scrapes on his forehead, beginning to scab over. Nasty scratches darkened his chin and the bridge of his nose. A split lower lip showed several day's worth of healing although, … Continue reading Skill, Luck, and Terrible Ideas (pt. 3)
After a dinner of green salad and a baked pasta casserole, the family convened on the living room couch in front of the TV. Dad sat at one end and his son sat on the other with the frying pan on the ottoman near his son's elbow. They left a space in the middle for … Continue reading The Frying Pan (pt. 3)
The strong scent of operating-room grade disinfectants didn't faze Mario Zikmund as he followed the last of the chatting medical assistants through the darkened office, shutting off the remaining lights and closing doors as he went. I love closing on Fridays. As the office manager, it was his duty to balance the needs of the … Continue reading The Dragon King’s Medic (pt. 1)
Duri Rolvsson 