You are on page 1of 12

Torn pages from the A4 Book A beginning is a delicate thing.

This is only the start of the beginning, as all this will have to be re-written for the computer. Still, the larger page should be helpful. The sections dont really help much. Nothing helps. - pellyn in order, or at least long sections. - drabbles and other fanfictions - competition things, stories and euronauts - plot diagrams and character chats. under a thousand wet skies the useful pocket notebook flaps. my feet have a ring of dirt from the dusty bar floors the half-broken sandals trod it. oh the way I feel and the way I seem outside. oh my shoes, what can I do? how dearly I would like to mince with the frayed. the motorway distant lines the world the clouds stay up the buried metal bones in the fake park rust and kill dust and will, sunder clunk to the full darkness of the unwatered park. If we run fast enough, well get there before the security dogs start. They have to start their shift with a good feed or else theyll just eat intruders. Ok, ok, but wouldnt it be better at the end of the shift when theyre tired? No it wouldnt. We have to go now They ran down the road and over the park, arguing in jerks. The Arcade was completely unlit and lurked in front of them like a cave mouth. Zirin climbed over the gates and dragged Jenna after him. Hed had training in getting over fences, but usually for a different purpose. Jenna hoicked her bag off the spikes and crept round to the cellar door. Zirin had already prised it open and sild inside (this is what cubi do instead of sliding). He was standing in the middle of an empty space. This isnt right, he said, turning round and round. Where are the mushroom vats and the crates? I dunno. Ive never been down here before. Jenna slid in after him and ran her torch around the walls. Wheres the door?

Zirin looked really upset to see a clean cellar. He had helped Pinon get the mushroom batches only six weeks ago (when he was still on good terms with the cubi, almost). The cellar wasnt just empty, but clean and painted white, even the floor. He could see himself in the torchlit gloss walls. Jenna had found the door and was trying to crowbar it open. She broke a big enough hole in the lock to open it. She flung open the door and started up the stairs. Curio he was a nice rich boy, born in 90, died 49 on a hillside in Africa, killed by the father of his boyfriends daughters husband. Small world. (and much other research followed, to be rediscovered some time)

You might also like