There's a small boy playing with a train set on the hearthrug in front of a roaring fire.

He moves--
--quick, too quick--
--like a flickering flame,
quick darts, sharp turns of his head, fingers that flash like a flame in wind. Lithe, light, dressed in a white shirt and jeans and a pair of boots, he inspects the area near the door.

Then the tables.

Then the bar.

Almost too fast to see until he's--
--back at the door."...all right. ( Read more... )

The nice thing about being a freelance sorcerysoft designer was that you could work anywhere... including the end of the universe.

The apartment had been too cramped and the park had been too bright and the beach had been too distracting. Thus, Mikael was here. In the bar. Still stuck.

"If this stupid bastard wasn't stuck on using Elder ( Read more... )