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January 2019 #584

H:
(coughing) Darlin’?

Me: You’re still in bed?

H:
Yes.

Me: Are you alright?

H:
Devil was stretching his claws (coughing) and I slept
poorly.

Me: Shall I leave you to sleep?

H:
No darlin’ (coughing) come sit.

Me: I have some story if you’d like to hear it?

H:
That would be a treat.

Me: It’s set just after Morrow’s found Cait – do you want be to
read a little bit before that?

H:
It’s up to you darlin’ (coughing) do as you see fit.

Me: Okay. (read about Cait staying with Morrow and stealing his
razor to cut her hair)

H:
For one who has never been in such a position (coughing) I’d
say you had the measure of it figured out pretty well. The dilemma of wishing
to trust an unknown man and knowing too well man’s nature… I like too Morrow’s
difficulty in knowing how to proceed.

Me: Yeah, he doesn’t have any experience with kids at this
point. Thank you for suggesting the scene.

H:
Pleasure darlin’. I enjoyed the fruits the seed produced. (lighting
cigarette and coughing)

Me: D’you need a blanket round your shoulders?

H:
(coughing) No.

Me: How was your weekend?

H:
Quiet. Snow and the storm. The west side of the house has
snow almost up to the shingles.

Me: It’s not like that all the way round?

H:
No, the wind made a drift. There is a foot, perhaps two on
the ground. (coughing) What of your weekend?

Me: It was alright. The most significant event is the landlady
wants us to move out.

H:
Eviction?

Me: Not so dramatic; she’s allowing us time to find another
place.

H:
She has tenants willing to pay a better price?

Me: No. She just told Kal our lifestyles weren’t compatible or
something.

H:
What does that mean exactly?

Me: Since we don’t make any noise, don’t make any mess and don’t
have any friends over, I really don’t know.

H:
At least in a different room you shouldn’t have to contend
with dogs.

Me: Yeah, we’ve been looking for somewhere else but I’m
surprised she wants us gone considering she’s always bitching about how poor
she is. She can’t be that poor if she can ditch the $900 a month Kal gives her.

H:
Landlords are a perfidious lot.

Me: Weren’t you a landlord at one time?

H:
No, I was set to own a saloon, did, in point of fact, for a
short time.

Me: Why didn’t you stay?

H:
(coughing) It ceased to be a viable venture.

Me: How come?

H:
The usual reasons: money. Town politics. My health.

Me: Would you object if I poured a shot of bourbon?

H:
Not if you shared it.

Me: Here.

H:
Much obliged.

Me: Where are your kits?

H:
By the stove I shouldn’t wonder. Come lie next to me. It’s
perishing – lend me some warmth.

Source: Tales of Necromancy

by cnkguy
January 2019 #584

Posted in Tales of Necromancy and tagged by with no comments yet.

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