mmerriam: (Streetcar)
[personal profile] mmerriam
Oh, the glamour of the writing life! Today I scrubbed the bathroom porcelain to within an inch of my life! Tomorrow I shall caulk the tub! Look at my rock and roll lifestyle and tremble!

I also wrote 1061 words.

The Reverend Selena has been acting more and more like herself the last couple of days. Today she was Miss Explorer Kitty! Later she plopped herself between me and my laptop. Right now Herself is sleeping under the futon, which I am lying in front of as I work tonight. Things seem to be getting back to normal. I am hopeful.

UPS finally brought our Christmas presents. The box looked like hell warmed over and served with cheap red wine, but everything inside as fine, except for the smell of fermented apples. It only took them 18 days to deliver my package. What great service!

Dudes, I think I've used up my monthly quota of exclamation points in this one post.

Phantom Streetcar Novel



Novel-in-90 Challenge





"Five cents, please."

Mae smiled at the conductor and fished in her bag for a nickel. She dropped the coin in the fare box. The conductor handed her a piece of paper. She gave it the barest glance and stuffed it into her jeans pocket.

"Welcome aboard, Miss Malvuex," the conductor said. "We'll reach your destination in plenty of time."

She looked at the name embroidered on his uniform.

"Thank you, Mr. Lowry."

The bell rang twice and the door closed. Mae turned to look at the other riders as the streetcar rolled away with a clickety-clack. She smiled at the two occupants of the car and walked toward where they sat on the back bench.

"Nanabozho. Death. How are you both this evening?"

Nanabozho smiled his buck-toothed smile. He was still dressed in his Ojibwa warrior gear, but carried a semi-automatic pistol in his belt next to a bone knife. "Ready to take on a few mortal mages."

Mae frowned. "You shouldn't go into that mansion."

"Never said I was gonna."

She glanced at Death. He looked somber in his black business suit. There was an expensive looking leather briefcase next to him on the seat. He regarded her with his star-filled eyes.

"My business is your business this night. I shall walk with you, Maeve Kathleen Malveux, for a time."

Mae gave him a stiff nod of her head. For all she knew, his business was with her tonight. She hoped not, but if it was her time, she hoped he had plenty of business with others first.

"I hope you're not planning to stake me to another tree," she said to the physical incarnation of Death.

Death cocked his head to one side. "Why should I desire to do such a thing?"

"I'm just remembering the last time we met."

"Those were different circumstances, Maeve."

"Good," Mae said, taking a seat on the bench next to Nanabozho. She gave Death a smile. "I thought I told you to call me Mae."

"That was before I impaled you on the limb of an oak tree in the frozen wastes of Annwn."

"Yeah, but Mae's not one to hold a grudge, are you?" Nanabozho said.

Mae turned toward the rabbit-eared spirit and raised an eyebrow. "Depends on exactly what you've done to cross me. Hang me from a tree in a mythical underworld: that I can forgive. Kidnap my sister and use her for God only knows what purpose: that will get you killed."

"You've become a fierce little thing," the spirit replied.

"She has always been such," Death said in soft voice.

Mae turned and glared at him. "What?"

"Arneson Manor," the conductor called out. "Last stop on the line."

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