“Sir, sir!”  The agitated boy wasn’t even a member of the clergy, just an odd job boy who was swapped around between the stables and the internal buildings as the establishment’s needs required.
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"Following this girl across the continent is not what I signed up for," commented Wyatt to his partner, Kouth.

"Wasn't what I signed up for either," agreed Kouth, "but everyone was certain she'd lead us to another nest of those star-marked, and she hasn't."
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"Is this going to work?"  The male person her own age wearing a Foot Regiment lieutenant's uniform neatly stripped of its insignia sounded concerned.

He wasn't the only one who felt that way.  "I have no idea," admitted Saleetha.  "I thought spring engines weren't supposed to blow up in the first place."

"They're not," he replied grimly.  "They ( Read more... )

"I'm looking for a card game," Saleetha told the barman.  "My grandfather told me that haucha is the game of choice in these parts."

The barman assessed her calmly.  "If you're not after high stakes or card sharps, I'd suggest the table in the far corner under the punctured shield."

Saleetha looked and there was, indeed, a long shield hanging ( Read more... )

 I wrote this to the 23 January 20 Thimbleful Thursday prompt of "Excess Baggage", and it probably owes something to the last episode of Dr Who that I watched.  It comes in at 220 words.

Jael was picking through the latest deposit of excess baggage left beside the evacuation field.  There weren’t people among the stacks anymore, not since families ( Read more... )

 This came out of Thimbleful Thursday's prompt of 23 May.  I am only a little over word count target.

"So, who is this guy?"  Campion was holding up the wall by leaning on it, as usual.  Everyone else occupied a piece of furniture.

Perhaps one day Kitty would sit on something that was meant for sitting on, but Gidge wasn't holding her breath.

" ( Read more... )

Here is my story written to 

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From 

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I wrote this to
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I wrote this to the Thimbleful Thursday prompt "A day late and a dollar short."

“Anyone would think,” said the School Governor grimly as she looked at the records before her, “that you don’t want to be here, Uthel. Your work is both patchy and tardy, but your teachers are convinced that you could excel, if you chose to.” She raised an eyebrow and ( Read more... )