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Dream Fragment: The Scarred Man
Davin risked a peek out the western window of his apartment. They were all slatted up, of course, with blackout cloth behind them; you had to move the heavy drapes aside to get a good look between the boards, and that meant taking a chance at being seen. Bug opticals were getting better; going outside without using the tunnels meant certain death ( Read more... ) -
Recipe: Sweet Potato and Basil Latkes
I haven't done a lot of creative writing lately, but I have done a fair bit of creative cooking. This is one of my more successful endeavors: sweet potato and basil latkes.
( Enjoy! ) -
hangin' it up for now
I've been really struggling with writing lately, as can be seen by my falling off from the daily grind. I'm going to stop doing it, for now at least ( Read more... ) -
On His Majesty's Secret Service (20 and last)
Bond took the steps three at a time, his feet light as a cat’s. He was in his element now - the chase. Adrenaline flooded his system. He had to catch Zoeller. There was no more time for games - Bond knew he must capture Zoeller, kill him if necessary, but neutralize his threat. Zoeller and his organization could not be allowed to survive ( Read more... ) -
On His Majesty's Secret Service (19)
The hell of it was, Bond wasn’t sure if he hadn’t really been turned ( Read more... ) -
On His Majesty's Secret Service (18)
Bond cracked his eyes open and pain seeped in. Everything was too bright and washed-out for him to focus on anything; there was a luminescent rectangle made of agony that had to be an un-shuttered window, and the hateful bubble of torture to his right must be a lamp, while under his head ( Read more... ) -
On His Majesty's Secret Service (17)
It was late at night, and there was little static on the airwaves. “I’m sorry, Jungfrau,” Bond said over the C-47’s radio, “but I don’t have an encoding device handy. I can’t speak any more openly than I have. Over ( Read more... ) -
On His Majesty's Secret Service (16)
Bond and Susan huddled under a tarp they hastily pulled over themselves in the weapons compartment of the plane. A second after they had hidden themselves, they heard footsteps and muffled conversation. The voices didn’t sound like they were speaking English or German. Bond suspected he was hearing Slovak, but he couldn’t be certain ( Read more... ) -
On His Majesty's Secret Service (15)
Susan sat on the pier, dangling her legs over the edge. Her pants were soaked but her shirt was dry, because it wasn’t her shirt. The cargo truck’s driver had survived Bond’s attack and appeared inclined to be hostile when Susan had dragged herself out of the water. It had been necessary to kick him in strategic anatomical areas and club him ( Read more... ) -
On His Majesty's Secret Service (14)
For the record, I am projecting completion at part 20.Bond blinked rapidly. There was a pounding in his head. No, the pounding of footsteps. Perhaps both ( Read more... )