Dropping Slow – Day 17

Below is the next bit of my novella, Dropping Slow, which I am posting serially during the month of June, as part of the Every Single Day Challenge to raise money for Sharon the Light.  If you’re enjoying the story, please feel free to donate via my Crowdrise page  ($10 minimum donation) or directly, at this link (no minimum donation).  Everyone who donates will receive an ebook copy of Dropping Slow, once it’s all posted (if you donate directly, please leave a comment to let me know!).

Javi comes home with a new charger and a suspicious, amused glance at their messy hair and flushed faces; he suggests takeout and they agree to it.  

Her first message on her new device is from Trini, as she sits at the kitchen table watching Javi and Linea figuring out their order.  She expects it to be about the Fromes photos, but it’s not.

Mother’s getting worse.

Tace waits until her hands aren’t shaking as much to send back, Do I need to come back?

Godno, Trini sends back, and relief floods through Tace like a drug.  yOu just got there.I’m keeping you Apprised, but I’ll let you know up front if you need to come back

The lack of punctuation makes her suspicious.  What are you doing?

Dress fitting Im fucking Cisara why do I have to wear a goddDammed dress>???

Because Mother told you to?

She grins when there’s no response and watches Lin and Javi again, lets her mind drift over alterations, pins and fittings, the clothes made to shape; she remembers in a foggy, smeared way the measurements she’d had for her seat in her Stryke, made to fit her body for long flights and battles; Javi types onto the counter device, frowning, as Lin ducks under his arm and pokes at the screen, then ducks back out and starts pulling plates down from the cupboard.  

“Gochento sauce,” he says and she nods; neither of them look at the other.  It’s something Tace has seen every day since she’s been back, the two of them moving together, orbiting each other; she thinks she can remember orbiting them, too, but now she’s not sure.  Maybe she’s always watched them.  She can’t see a hole where she would have been.

Copyright 2017 by Laura E. Price.  Feel free to link to this story–signal boosting is welcome!–but please don’t reproduce it without permission. 


Published by Laura E. Price

I read (you can check out my Goodreads if you want; it's linked on my blog). I write (I’ve been published in Cicada, On Spec, Strange Horizons, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Betwixt, Metaphorosis, Gallery of Curiosities, The Cassandra Project; the stuff that’s available online is linked on my blog). I plan for the inevitable zombie apocalypse and welcome the coming of the gorilla revolution. Or the anarchist rabbits. Whichever happens first. (I also blame my husband for basically everything.)

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