Read Online Nemecene: The Epoch of Redress by Kaz Lefave - Free Book Online
Authors: Kaz Lefave
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makes sense.
She's becoming more chatty and my attention shifts to her words. "I saw her in the hovertrain," she tells me. Not entirely sure who she is referring to, I ask for clarification. "Your angel. The one who sucked the fluids from your brain yesterday on the platform, disabling your motor control system. Hehehe." Well, I knew that was coming, although I'm not sure what series of thoughts lead her mind in that direction. I momentarily disengage from my memoirs to notice her crouched down in the corner across from me, painstakingly rearranging the jumbled threads of her dreamcatcher. She appears intent on her task, though sharply cognizant of my defensive stare, as if she subconsciously knows someone is watching.
The exotic stranger. She did steal a bit of my heart, that I will admit, but turning me into a puddle of mush? Well, that's a bit of a stretch. Besides, it wasn't like that. The feeling that came over me I mean. There was joy, kindness, and a deep connection beyond the physical, something which Eli would never acknowledge. But you understand.
"Don't despair, jelly knees, you'll see her again." She says that with so much conviction that I wonder if she's hiding something, or maybe she's just toying with my resolve.
As I re-immerse myself in the events preceding yesterday's close, I realize that Eli is probably right. She likes that you know...likes being right. Although with a strong enough case and irrefutable evidence (just the facts please), her synaptic network of overactive brain cells short-circuits and makes room for new members. It happens. This particular hunch of hers however is not a subject for discussion. The city is quite populous but bounded, so I must agree with her position. It is just a matter of time before our paths cross again, and perhaps we may even share a few words. Having a friend on the inside might ease our transition.
I had begun recounting the details of our defection during the final third of our transport ride in anticipation of a certain change in my late night ritual. The unpredictability of what the second leg of our trip would bring prompted me to take advantage of any pockets of calm that presented themselves along the way. With respect to the deluge of sensations flooding our bodies as we experienced the exhilaration of our escape, I had managed to quickly outline a cursory account of our inaugural flight in the relative safety of the hovertrain as we traveled deeper into the city center.
The first drop proved to be a popular one, with more than a third of the passengers disembarking and just a few jumping on, leaving the area around us clear of unwelcome witnesses. The subsequent malfunction as the craft sped to the next platform offered the opportunity I was waiting for, and I started writing impetuously. The words seemed to flow from my pen like a wave of pristine images, crystal clear in my mind as if captured in time. I remember feeling a cool breeze brushing my shoulder and the sweet scent of myrrh as she walked passed, filling a seat near the front. I kept my focus on the page, trying to ignore her penetrating gaze, while Eli, as evidenced by her comments tonight, had no doubt taken special note of our secret admirer.
I had just scripted what became the closing thought of the day, when the power returned and I caught a glimpse of the fluttering tails of her silky black coat gliding down the exit. In an instant, she was gone, and we were one stop away from a much anticipated rest, her perfume still tickling my nose and directing me back to a flash of a little boy sleeping peacefully in your arms.
The exit vent will take some getting used to. Just as the hovertrain's arrival gave warning of the impending lift, the fare collector buried in the armrest of each seat signaled the goodbye plunge. This time, Eli was the one caught off her guard when she sprang back into her body while I simultaneously dropped out of mine. What a rush! I can see why the Gadlins steer
She's becoming more chatty and my attention shifts to her words. "I saw her in the hovertrain," she tells me. Not entirely sure who she is referring to, I ask for clarification. "Your angel. The one who sucked the fluids from your brain yesterday on the platform, disabling your motor control system. Hehehe." Well, I knew that was coming, although I'm not sure what series of thoughts lead her mind in that direction. I momentarily disengage from my memoirs to notice her crouched down in the corner across from me, painstakingly rearranging the jumbled threads of her dreamcatcher. She appears intent on her task, though sharply cognizant of my defensive stare, as if she subconsciously knows someone is watching.
The exotic stranger. She did steal a bit of my heart, that I will admit, but turning me into a puddle of mush? Well, that's a bit of a stretch. Besides, it wasn't like that. The feeling that came over me I mean. There was joy, kindness, and a deep connection beyond the physical, something which Eli would never acknowledge. But you understand.
"Don't despair, jelly knees, you'll see her again." She says that with so much conviction that I wonder if she's hiding something, or maybe she's just toying with my resolve.
As I re-immerse myself in the events preceding yesterday's close, I realize that Eli is probably right. She likes that you know...likes being right. Although with a strong enough case and irrefutable evidence (just the facts please), her synaptic network of overactive brain cells short-circuits and makes room for new members. It happens. This particular hunch of hers however is not a subject for discussion. The city is quite populous but bounded, so I must agree with her position. It is just a matter of time before our paths cross again, and perhaps we may even share a few words. Having a friend on the inside might ease our transition.
I had begun recounting the details of our defection during the final third of our transport ride in anticipation of a certain change in my late night ritual. The unpredictability of what the second leg of our trip would bring prompted me to take advantage of any pockets of calm that presented themselves along the way. With respect to the deluge of sensations flooding our bodies as we experienced the exhilaration of our escape, I had managed to quickly outline a cursory account of our inaugural flight in the relative safety of the hovertrain as we traveled deeper into the city center.
The first drop proved to be a popular one, with more than a third of the passengers disembarking and just a few jumping on, leaving the area around us clear of unwelcome witnesses. The subsequent malfunction as the craft sped to the next platform offered the opportunity I was waiting for, and I started writing impetuously. The words seemed to flow from my pen like a wave of pristine images, crystal clear in my mind as if captured in time. I remember feeling a cool breeze brushing my shoulder and the sweet scent of myrrh as she walked passed, filling a seat near the front. I kept my focus on the page, trying to ignore her penetrating gaze, while Eli, as evidenced by her comments tonight, had no doubt taken special note of our secret admirer.
I had just scripted what became the closing thought of the day, when the power returned and I caught a glimpse of the fluttering tails of her silky black coat gliding down the exit. In an instant, she was gone, and we were one stop away from a much anticipated rest, her perfume still tickling my nose and directing me back to a flash of a little boy sleeping peacefully in your arms.
The exit vent will take some getting used to. Just as the hovertrain's arrival gave warning of the impending lift, the fare collector buried in the armrest of each seat signaled the goodbye plunge. This time, Eli was the one caught off her guard when she sprang back into her body while I simultaneously dropped out of mine. What a rush! I can see why the Gadlins steer
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