About Alastair

Originally posted on Unlocked Untanglings:
(Written 11/2/2018, in parallel with “Getting to Know Me”) ? How our world can change in an instant. We all think we know this. Many of us have had this happen over and over in our lives. Yet it continues to surprise. As if we just can’t wrap our heads…

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With a frown, Chris re-sheathed his sword. The charging orcs shuffled to a confused stop. [….]

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Amor Fraternal

Summer. Jack plays computer soccer. Finn studies the older boy’s fourth-grade math books, face crinkled with concentration, almost crying. We’re perplexed: the kindergartner’s torture is self-imposed. [….]

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Conversation Killer

No one much asks business or pleasure these days. But if anyone did, and if Kristenia answered honestly, she’d say revenge, a real conversation killer. Her mark wears a new name, doesn’t recognize grown-up Kristy as he takes payment (cash), tells her her room number (22), asks what she does.

Find people, she replies, and, with an oh, eye contact stops as he readies her room key.

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I led the handcuffed, fourteen-year-old pickpocket to a seat by my desk, where I pulled up her past offenses: petty theft (6), resisting arrest (3), escape from police custody (24).

Twenty-four escapes? I looked up to an empty chair, handcuffs open on the seat. …

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Burn, Parasite

They arrived unheralded on a cool, gray, April morning. Made no efforts to hide. None, either, to communicate. Landed quietly in a constellation of low hills, amid the maples and alders of the Pacific Northwest. Took time picking a spot while news anchors ad-libbed about extraterrestrials and frightened citizens flocked to supermarkets and gun shops. [….]

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I took forever to cool after we parted, so violent was our separation. By the time I pulled myself together, my face was pocked and scarred. For eons, I loomed close–too close, I realize, creepy close–spoiling your nights with the glare of my regard. I try to give you space now, a little more each […]

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On the way out the door to work, she stood before the full-length mirror and appraised herself. Curvy. So many curves. Curves within curves. At work, people would grumble at her, tell her to go away, but she had value. She was Clippy. And somewhere on Word, a writer needed her.

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