I’ve been digging through all the odd ideas I’ve jotted down for the Cerberus volume ‘A falling of Angels’ and rediscovered this fragment, ostensibly written on an ageing ThinkPad 600E in 2009. At least that’s what the file creation date originally told me. With the feeling it began life even earlier, I took a deeper look at the content creation details in file properties which gave me an even earlier date. 2006. Good grief.
“You want?” The piercing punctuated pusher was high on her own merchandise, pinpoint pupils and twitchy as a cat on fire.
“Yeah! You got?” In the noise of the crowded bar they both had to shout to hear each other. By gestures she got him to follow her out into the cooler night. He started to sweat as the cool air hit his skin under his leather coat and stab resistant shirt. She beckoned him into a doorways shadow, away from the watchful eyes of CCTV.
“Switch.” He tried to act cool. How was this supposed to go?
“Oo, gonna cost yo’ baby. Cool nineyfivehunnerd.” Her tone was mocking. All of fifteen years of age. He felt suddenly very old.
“What do I get?”
“Y’all see when yo’ git it.” A flash of an urchin grin as she stuck out her new model cred tab. “C’mon hunky, gimme.” She eagerly ran a studded tongue over black tinted lips, iridescent violet hair sparkling in reflected streetlight.
“’kay.” A blue spark of laser light flickered and the deal was done.
It has rhythm, cadence, tension, and although it’s a bit pulp fictionish, the text has a good feel. Now all I have to do is bolt it into the current story structure.
Martyn K Jones 