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N.B. Austin

American Author

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Short Stories

Similar Objects, Organized in Simple Buckets

March 12, 2018

Similar objects

There are days we see everything and days it seems we see nothing. Times we feel like screaming and others we want nothing more than to sing. When I was a young boy, I used to sing more.

Through small, crooked teeth I would inaudibly mumble out a song while organizing my model train set with my father. Along with being a craftsman, he’s also a musician, so he’d sing along with me as we put everything together. We weren’t always in harmony–we tended to be nowhere close–but it didn’t matter. We were more than a vocal duo and building much more at the time than model trains.

Several different types of pieces composed the set–there were the train cars, the tracks, the surrounding scenery, and the faceless figurine people. Each of those distinct objects was organized together when we broke down the set, putting each into their own buckets.

“Why?” I asked, as I always would. “Why don’t they just put all the pieces in one big bucket, dad?”

“Because, buddy, it makes it easier this way when we need to make sense of things.”

“So, it’s better?”

“Hmm . . . I don’t know if it’s better. Just easier.”

I would ponder it. We’d start with the tracks before setting the scenery, people, and last, the train cars–always in that order. It seemed to make the most sense because we’d done it this way plenty of times.

Again, I asked, “But why? Each track is a different shape than the others.”

He laughed. “Yea, that they are.”

“So why don’t they each get their own bucket? Wouldn’t that make it easier-er?

“Well, no. Because then there’d be a whole lot of buckets. One for each individual piece.”

“Oh yea. So, that wouldn’t be better.”

“Well, actually . . .” He laughed again and made a mess of my hair, rubbing it as dads do. “You’re too much, you know that?”

I started singing again as I continued on the tracks and he was quick to join in. I sure was fortunate to have him to help me with both.

Having had the chance to reflect on it, I think today I’ll sing. And hope you’ll join me.

*

QOTD: I used to be OBSESSED with trains growing up. What was your childhood favorite thing/activity?

Thank you for reading and for everyone’s continued support for the Civilands series. Let me know your thoughts in the comments below, feel free to subscribe for more blog updates, and click here for free book giveaways, including best-sellers!

Short Story: Those Daring Among Us

March 5, 2018

The following is a recounting of my first meeting with the United States of America’s Federal Bureau of Investigation. My name at the time was Francis Heart . . .

Science fiction short story

On an old, rickety porch rocking chair I sat, swinging back and forth as a cool breeze blew up my forearms and continued to my shoulders. Besides endless fields and the barn off to the side of this lonesome house, the setting sun was the only thing to look at–but oh, what a sight it was to see. It amazed me how such a vibrant warmth of color filled farmlands so desolate. As the hooting of an owl welcomed the coming night, I felt I could never get tired of it, though I knew we’d have to leave soon.

As my sense of calm reached its peak that eve though, a dust cloud trailed something far off in the distance: a car. “Eva,” I called back toward the house, a ring of urgency in my voice.

The door snapped open beside me and my first companion, Eva, stood in its frame, peering out at what was coming toward us. “Do you think they know?”

“I don’t see how they could yet. But we can’t be sure.”

“I’ll get everyone to the bedroom.” She took a nervous deep breath as she went to turn back inside.

“Oh and Eva,” She was quick to emerge again before having had the chance to clear the door, “we’ll get through this, okay? We’ve proven we can.”

Another breath, this one steadied. “For the Five Futures.”

“For the Five Futures,” I said with a smile and a nod.

Eva scurried inside and after about five minutes the car pulled up. As the sun had disappeared from the sky, two men emerged from the vehicle.

“Mr. Francis Heart?” the larger in stature and darker in skin color of the two said.

“The same.”

“I’m Agent Landry. This here is my partner, Agent Collins,”

The second finished a loud sip of a steaming coffee, right as the first spat out his name. “We’re with the FBI and will appreciate you taking the time to answer a few questions we have about something you might have seen.”

“Yea, sure. I’d be–”

Before I could finish, they approached and led me into “my” own home. It was a massive relief to see Eva had succeeded in clearing everyone from the first floor and keeping things quiet. The living room lights flashed on as the agents sat me down on the nearest couch. On the other side of a coffee table they pulled up chairs. While my eyes adjusted to the light, I took a second note of their puffy “FBI” jackets, short haircuts, and opposite complexions. Despite their unwelcome intrusion, some part of me was still excited they were here.

“Thanks again for welcoming us into your home, Mr. Heart.”

“Thanks again? You haven’t–I mean . . . of course.” My voice trailed off mid-reply as I had seen the youngest of my two surviving companions peak out from the stairs behind the agents. “I’d be happy to answer any question y’all might have.” In a controlled panic, I remembered she also didn’t have her disguise available. With wide eyes I shot up to my feet for a distraction–I couldn’t allow them to be discovered. Who knew how they’d be handled if they were, especially with the hostages they were supposed to be watching up there in the bedroom? “I noticed you have coffee already, Agent Collins, but is there anything else I can get for either of you in the meantime? Agent Landry?” The men reacted in kind to sit me back down as I spotted Eva silently pulling the youngster up the stairs.

Landry ushered me back into my seat. “No, sir. Please, sit down. We’re okay.”

Once I was planted on the couch again, Landry returned to his place. Collins, on the other hand, leaned back with a leg folded over and his nose pointed up. A curious smile extended across his face. “A place like this must be great for keeping light pollution to a minimum, huh?”

“Light pollution . . . yes, looking up to the stars is a great passion of mine.” The steps of my comrades on the floorboards above me were ever so faint. I could hear them returning to their post and it made me sweat, but the agents didn’t react. I presumed my hearing to have been more acute than theirs.

“Oh, I imagined so. Bet you’re out there on your porch every night.”

“I try to be. I find it makes me feel free.”

Landry exchanged a brief look with Collins, before turning his attention back toward me. “There must be a lot you see on a given night.”

I shifted in my seat, scratching the back of my neck as the sound of crickets started picking up outside. It felt as if they were screaming into my ears. I realized I needed to focus. “I bet there’s a lot y’all see on a given night as well.”

Collins laughed, Landry’s lip turned up in only the slightest way. “Let’s keep the conversation about you. What do you say?”

“No, Landry, I’m intrigued. Tell me, what is it you think we see, sir?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean any offense and wouldn’t claim to know past what they show on the TV,” I said, looking to Landry, who seemed to be the more collected one, for support. It seemed I was right, as his arm raised to tame his partner. “I’m just somewhat confused as to why y’all are here is all.”

A thud sounded from above, which this time they heard as we all jumped and my heart sunk. The agents ended up in a defensive ready position, which revealed their weapons. WHO HOOO, an owl could be heard calling through an open window. An immense relief swept over me.

“Mother fucking birds, man.” Collins stormed over and slammed the window shut before returning to his seat.

“So you asked why we’re here,” Landry said after straightening himself out. “A week ago, an asteroid landed not a mile north east of your farm. Is that right?”

“Yes it is. And I already spoke to the local police about it. Their teams were here within the hour of the incident and had the site of the crash cleaned up before I even had the chance to look.”

“Crash? Who said anything about a crash?” Collins asked.

“Would ‘impact’ be better? I only saw it fall from the sky I didn’t get to see what it was.”

Landry nodded. “Your property extends to the location of this impact, correct?”

They were probing me now, so I started taking my time with my answers. “It does but I half figured it for a bomb at first so I wasn’t gonna go investigate. I got a family to protect.”

Collins looked up. “And where are they?”

“Upstairs asleep. Was an early night tonight.”

“Any chance they saw anything?”

“I’m confident of the contrary.”

“But not certain? Mind if we go ask then,” Collins said as he stood up and pointed toward the stairs.

“Look, I’ll answer any questions you have for me but let them get their rest, please.”

“You mean your wife, Eva, and daughter, Anne?” Collins hissed. “How old is little Annie-girl now anyway?”

I looked at Landry for help. “What is this?”

“Did you see them, Mr. Heart?” Landry asked. Something in his voice changed.

“Did I see who?”

“Are you hiding them?” Now he stood up as well, leaning over with his hands down on the coffee table.

They had me read. I didn’t know how, perhaps my system was reading the communication dynamics wrong, but I knew they did. “Why are you doing this?”

“They’re upstairs, aren’t they?” Collins asked, with a hand on the gun at his waist. “We can only ensure the safety of your loved ones if you cooperate and hand the others over to us.”

I couldn’t help but hesitate as my mind raced.

“We’ve monitored your house,” Landry said. “We know there are more than three in it. Take us to them now, Mr. Heart, do it slowly.”

“And you won’t hurt them either? They haven’t come to hurt anyone.”

With my confirmation of the presence they were looking for, their guns came drawn and my own question was answered. “What becomes of them is no concern of yours,” Collins said.

“It will be decided by those equipped to make such decisions.”

I sighed. “Very well. Follow me.”

Up the stairs we went. They flanked me with their guns drawn. When I came to the door at the end of the hall, I gestured to them and stood to the side. They readied and threw the door open. Before them, sitting on the bed in each others’ arms, were Eva, Anne, and Francis Heart–the real Heart family. Behind the Hearts were my two comrades, both without their holographic disguises and each a sight alien enough on their own to stun Collins and Landry. The agents then turned back toward me, my disguise now down as well, and I raised two gloved hands to their shoulders. With a zap, I really did stun them now, their bodies falling limp and paralyzed to the ground.

I looked at the others with a frown. “We need to prepare. More will come soon.”

This isn’t how any of this mission I had devised for so many years ago was supposed to unfold. Despite the impossible odds of even making it here through countless light-years at a moment in time when the people of Earth were advanced enough to comprehend our existence; despite all that could have and did go wrong on our long journey; somehow I held onto hope we wouldn’t face the issues we had to this point. While logic suggested this possibility in countless simulations, I never fully considered that the people of Earth would shoot down our ship, killing almost all on board. Perhaps we approached too fast. Perhaps I didn’t prepare enough. I only hoped the other four Future missions could find greater success.

While agents of the FBI were out cold and being tied up by my companions, I was thankful the Hearts were as nice and sympathetic to us under the circumstances as they had been. They would understandably get a little shaken by the sight of our natural appearance though, so I activated my disguise again for their sake.

My name at that time became Agent Landry of the United States of America’s Federal Bureau of Investigation.

*

QOTD: this concept is one I’ve been toying around with for my next series. Let me know what you think below!

Thank you for reading and for everyone’s continued support for the Civilands series. Let me know your thoughts in the comments below, feel free to subscribe for more blog updates, and click here for free book giveaways, including best-sellers!

*

Copyright (c) 2017 by N.B. Austin

Published in the U.S. by Moore Bell Productions, Austin.

All Rights Reserved.

Medium Challenge Shadorma Poem: “Alone With You”

February 17, 2018

Hello again! After about a week off following a trip to Brazil, I’m thrilled to be back to creating. I will very soon be posting a discussion in great length about my insane experience at Carnaval. However, as for my first new project since returning, below is a Shadorma poem I wrote.

This Spanish-style poem follows a 3/5/3/3/7/5 meter, which made it an interesting puzzle to write. I did so as part of a challenge on the Creative Cafe Medium publication, which I am thrilled to be a part of! The poem can also be found on Medium here. Feel free to add me there if you use that platform so I can see your work too. 🙂

Alone With You

Linger there

On my crooked mind,

New beauty.

Endlessly.

Light a candle, look around.

You are all alone.

*

Thank you for reading and for everyone’s continued support for the Civilands series. Let me know your thoughts in the comments below, feel free to subscribe for more blog updates, and click here for free book giveaways, including best-sellers!

*

Copyright (c) 2017 by N.B. Austin

Published in the U.S. by Moore Bell Productions, Austin.

All Rights Reserved.

Short Story: I Found Her on the Beaches of Alvenika

February 3, 2018

I Found Her

Alvenika’s beaches were a sight to behold. Flowing white sand, pushed along by a gentle, whistling wind, down a coastline littered with brown-black, cascading boulders. He would marvel at the way the water glided over the rocks, making them appear smooth and glassy. It seemed they would have been molded over lifetimes into this better form.

There were days he’d felt like he could relate to this. He’d taken his fair share of shoe-less strolls by the water after a long day’s work. There was a pride in being a productive employee and he knew what happiness was–at least, he thought he did. His god, The Enigma, had been good to him and he always prayed to It in faithful gratitude for his circumstances. Other nights though, he’d start to wonder if there was more he could be doing. Like maybe he wasn’t trying hard enough to reach his potential.

On those occasions he’d still be by the ocean, only there wouldn’t be sand beneath his bare feet. Instead, he’d be hunched over a glass of scotch at a popular outdoor bar he frequented in the warmer months. Just needing to get a little something to repress the over-sized thoughts, he’d watch the sunset paint the waves a crisp orange. This image and the stars to follow had been his solace time and time again, until one night, he saw her . . .

From across the street he spotted her with a friend, hoping this bar would be their destination. With her wavy, red-brown hair and corset-hugged hourglass figure, he was struck by her electric vibrance. Both a graciousness and swagger in her step suggested confidence, but also gratitude for the attention she must’ve known she was receiving. This was the picture of class.

Fortune favored him as her path did take her to the bar. As she strode in with a turn of her head, she caught him staring.

Great first impression, creep.

He looked away fast and only then realized how big he had been smiling too. Peeking back up ever-so-slightly, he saw her giggle and look down.

She giggling with me? At me? Is there someone behind me . . ? Nope.

The moment warmed him despite any worry or embarrassment. It transported him to another world, free of the stresses of the day. This was one with possibilities he couldn’t fathom, enough to make the magnificence of the beach and sunset invisible. The strange thing about it though, was it felt familiar. While at the same time he was aware he’d never seen this woman before, something inside him knew her as if the fiber of her being was etched into his bones.

He decided it was safe to look again, so he did. The only seconds his gaze could spare otherwise were given to the other patrons, simply to ensure by their reactions this angel he beheld was real. Previous chatter was quieted as she made her way to a high table beside the sand.

She’s real alright.

When her friend and her arrived, a well-dressed gentleman at a table beside her jumped up to pull their seats out for them.

Damn it.

They said their thank-yous and the gentleman did his best to start conversation. The friend happily obliged, but not her. No, as the friend spoke, her eyes drifted off before locking with his for a second time. His heart skipped a beat and lungs could collapse, but he held the look despite them and smiled. Again, she smiled back.

Get your ass up and go say hello, you fool. This isn’t like anything else you’ve let slip. This is on a whole other level. You worry about your full potential? She’s it, buddy.

Sipping and looking down at his near-finished, first drink, the doubt started to creep in as it always did. At twenty-six he was aware he probably had the looks. He was aware of all the reasons why he should be confident. Yet, all he thought about was what could go wrong. All the things he might say to ruin it raced around in his head. The pain of those outcomes would only dash his confidence further.

Plus, look at her. She’s perfect. Who the hell am I to think I deserve her time?

The debate raged on inside him for some time and after being poured his fourth glass of scotch he looked up at the clock to notice an hour-and-a-half had gone by.

Shit, man, how could you do–

Her friend and her stood up and straightened themselves out. They would be leaving, and he would never stop hating himself for it. This was going to be his greatest failure.

As they hugged, it sunk in. But when they released each other, she didn’t follow her friend back to town. Instead, she continued onto the sand alone, walking toward the fiery evening sky. Her silhouette darkened as she went and again, the scene remained small compared to her.

You see that? What wouldn’t you do for that? To what lengths wouldn’t you go to ensure you never lose this moment?

There was no way he could let her vanish into the night. With a look at the gentleman from before, who for now remained in his seat and was watching her too, he stood up and took a breath. His glass of scotch remained full, but he didn’t care. Tonight he’d leave it that way.

Marching away from the bar and toward her, he could start to make out her features again through the shadows. Where before he’d dread this moment, now he couldn’t get to her quick enough. She’d stopped in a place where the water would creep up over feet and recede back out to the ocean. As he came up beside her, he was lost in the sight of her face, lit by the sky’s amber glow.

“Took you long enough,” she said, not looking his way behind her.

“I’m sorry about that, miss. But don’t the best things only come with time?”

Now beside her, they chuckled together.

See? What was all that worrying about?

“Have we . . ? Why do I feel like we’ve met before?” she asked.

“You know, I had a similar thought at first. What I realized though?” He shook his head. “I realized it just doesn’t really matter.”

As the oranges before them faded to purples and a cool sea breeze sent a chill over his neck, he felt more free and alive now than he ever had.

She turned to him with furrowed brows. “And how’s that?”

“Because,” he said as he smiled her way, “whatever happened in the past, it happened. But the most important thing in my world has to be that I’m here meeting you now.”

“Well then.” She shifted her weight toward him merrily and extended a hand. “It is my great pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir. My name’s Judith Abigale.”

Judith. William melted.

He reached out a gentle hand and bowed his head with a smile, keeping his eyes straight on hers. “The pleasure is all mine, Judith. And I’m William. William Keagan.”

Like he told her, whatever happened before, had happened. But William realized going forward he could only carry on, thankful he had found Judith that day, on the beaches of Alvenika.

*

QOTD: Did you ever have something/someone strike you in this way? Ever had to overcome lack of confidence? What did doing so mean to you? Tell me about it below 🙂 Also, if you want more from these two, follow their story in the Civilands series! If you already are following, keep on to find out what this all means…

Thank you for reading and for everyone’s continued support for the Civilands series. Let me know your thoughts in the comments below, feel free to subscribe for more blog updates, and click here for free book giveaways, including best-sellers!

*

Copyright (c) 2017 by N.B. Austin

Published in the U.S. by Moore Bell Productions, Austin.

All Rights Reserved.

A Changed Man’s Verse #1: “When Did This Match Strike?”

January 22, 2018

Changed man's verse. Poem

There was a divider line.

Some point in time.

But I wasn’t aware of it then. Am I even aware of it now?

The day and the hour and minute everything changed?

It was so swift,

Precise,

Intentional.

Magnificent.

It brought me here now, you know.

And I wouldn’t otherwise be.

Yet, here I stand so I ponder and question it:

When had the mark mended me?

Because I know the what and the why and the how and the who.

But today I see crystals and question their substance.

It’s a thing I’d skipped over before.

So when had the mark mended me?

Because still, there is crimson.

It dances in black water.

And its persistence is now fierce in me.

Like a million vagabonds born into a city that never sleeps. Oh, how they hunger. How their search goes on and they beg to be fed, while they know deep down they will never be fed. Not really. Appetites never to be quenched in full. They are wolves. Each one of them. With claws and fangs made to tear into the flesh of their prey. It is how they were raised. Bloodthirsty because they had to be. At some point this choice was made. Then and there the nature of the world was accepted for what it is. And maybe one day it will evolve into something new. But even if it does, one thing is certain. There’s no going back.

And there’s no going back.

Nor desire to do so.

But I wonder what composes a moment of transition,

Ignition,

Revolution.

With gratitude for the moment your mark mended me.

*

Thank you for reading and for everyone’s continued support for the Civilands series. Let me know your thoughts in the comments below, feel free to subscribe for more blog updates, and click here for free book giveaways, including best-sellers!

Short Story: Smoke, Mirrors, Destiny Part 1.2

January 16, 2018

Smoke, Mirrors, Destiny Part 1.2

A Civilands Series Short Story Prequel by N.B. Austin

Start With Part 1.1 Here

 

15 Years Before – The Other Side

The muzzle flashed from Anne’s hand toward Rousseau. His head and body jolted back away from the onlookers, yet he remained standing with his hands on his knees. All in attendance gasped, while Dominic’s eyes widened in excited anticipation.

A few moments of worried whispers passed by. Bringing a hand to his chin, Rousseau turned his neck aside in dramatic fashion to crack it before letting out a lengthy sigh. A laugh from Dominic at his flippancy was echoed by more restrained, uncertain chuckles from the others. As his body rotated back toward the crowd, Dominic could see his mouth was open with a smile on his face. Clenched in his front teeth for all to see was a bullet.

The audience was quiet at first, but built into a cheer. Not one of them were as enthusiastic in their applause as Dominic though.

“Thank you, thank you!” Rousseau gave an elegant bow before sliding over to hold Anne’s hand as she took a bow of her own. “And let’s hear it for my ever-so-wonderful assistant, Ms. Anne Greeley!”

A cat-call from someone behind him made Dominic blush as Anne and he exchanged a glance. How he wished it was him in the place of, “The Great Rousseau.” The glory of being an illusionist would be fantastic. Doing it with Anne beside him though, would be a dream. It was a dream he would work without end to ensure came true.

When the commotion from the final act of the show died down, he went backstage to find her. The theater itself was small and one he never considered worthy of someone as talented as Rousseau. However, the backstage area was nothing short of a maze. It was lined with rooms filled with wardrobes, props, and set-pieces for a variety of acts.

“Nicky!” Before he could turn all-the-way-around, Anne came barreling into him for a hug. Somehow he managed to get hold of her, lifting her into the air and giving her a kiss. Still in the air, she pulled back. “So? How did I do?”

Dominic shrugged with a grin. “Well, I mean . . . you totally jumped like a little chicken when you pulled the trigger. But otherwise, you were great.”

“Did not,” she said, giving him a soft, playful pat on the chest before kissing him again. After reveling in her for the second time, he let her down. She backed away with a dark grin once she came to her feet.

“Oh damn it. I don’t like that look.”

“I know how to get you back for being smart.”

“Not now, please. Let’s go to dinner. You must be hungry.”

“You’re gonna meet him today.”

“No-no-no. I’m not ready yet.” It was too late as she’d already scampered off like a little bandit through the hall. Chasing behind he called to her, dodging passersby as he went. “Annie, stop. Seriously. I told you I still have practicing to do.”

Around a corner she went. “Who’s the little chicken now, sweetie?”

“It’s not that, I just–.”

As he made it around the same turn Anne had disappeared behind, there she stood with The Great Rousseau beside her. A shiny cane Dominic never noticed before served as his third leg, though he didn’t seem to place too much weight on it. “Here he is,” she said.

“Mr. Rousseau, sir, it’s such an honor.” Dominic couldn’t help but bow, though he felt awkward doing it.

“The pleasure is all mine, Dominic. I’ve heard quite a bit about you from your lady friend here,” Rousseau said, extending a wrinkled hand with a surprisingly firm grip. Up close Dominic could see there was still some pepper left in his salt-dominated goatee and mane. “But please, call me Abel.”

“Of course. If you could excuse me for running around as well. Your performance was fantastic and your theater deserves proper manners, I’m sure.”

Rousseau turned to his assistant. “Goodness, what kind of dreadful, dull monster have you told this boy I am, Annie-girl? Worry not of things like manners around me, son. This place isn’t my theater either. Doesn’t seem the good people of New Berkeley have the same appetite for the extraordinary they once did. As industry sprouts, seats empty. So entertainers like us have to share these spaces now.”

“Oh, I’m no entertainer, Mr. Abel. Not yet anyway.”

“But you do aspire to be, do you not?”

“Yes, I do. I want to be an illusionist more than anything. I practice every day and night.”

Rousseau tapped his cane on the ground three times, with a turned up lip. “Well then I will train you as Annie has asked me to under one condition.”

Looking his way with a guilty smile and a shrug was Anne, who never told him she’d already asked this of her boss. “Anything, sir.”

“You may aspire to achievements, but not titles. You do not become something, you either are the thing today or you are not. If you do not understand this, training you will be a waste of time. Do you follow?”

“I think so.”

“Okay. So now I ask the question. What are we, Dominic?”

“We are illusionists. I am an illusionist.”

*

Part 1.3 of Smoke, Mirrors, Destiny coming soon!

Thanks for reading and hope you’re enjoying the Civilands series. Let me know your thoughts in the comments below, feel free to subscribe for more blog updates, and click here for free book giveaways, including best-sellers!

*

Smoke, Mirrors, Destiny Table of Contents:

Part 1.1: Curtain Call

Part 1.2: The Other Side

*

Copyright (c) 2017 by N.B. Austin

Published in the U.S. by Moore Bell Productions, Austin.

All Rights Reserved.

Short Story: Smoke, Mirrors, Destiny Part 1.1

January 13, 2018

Smoke, Mirrors, Destiny Part 1.1

A Civilands Series Short Story Prequel by N.B. Austin

 

15 Years Before – Curtain Call

An old, gray man by the name of Rousseau stood with his hands raised straight up into the air. About ten feet apart from him was the young, beautiful Anne Greeley. Only one of Anne’s hands were lifted, and it was aimed toward Rousseau. In it, angled right at him, was a cold, loaded pistol.

Dominic Turner could do nothing but watch from the side with a group of nineteen others. Each of the onlookers gasped, but not Dominic. As a poor 22-year-old in the difficult, growing city of New Berkeley, he was too busy learning the ways of the world to feel surprised or offended. Instead, he studied every part of the 50-something-year-old man’s countenance and posture. How much was he cowering versus confident? Where were his eyes and was their target the thing he was really focused on? The answers to these questions would determine Rousseau’s readiness for what was to come.

“Okay, honey I think we’ve seen enough,” a gentle female voice in the crowd said from behind Dominic. Her hands were covering the eyes of a boy standing before her, who was trying his best to peak through them as he was led away from the scene.

How could they leave now? Oh well, down to seventeen.

A heavy-set fellow stepped forward. “Shoot the old bastard down!”

Though Dominic had seen death here before and it crushed him, for some reason he appreciated this kind of reaction. There was something about the excitement of a crowd and always had been. The reactionary emotion which poured out of others in such a place filled him tenfold, even if they were calling for murder.

A smile crossed his face. “Yea, doll. And make it snappy!” he said.

Anne looked back at him and perked up, with the gun still fixed on Rousseau. Her beauty was a simple one, with curly brown locks pinned up and a dainty, innocent little walk. But she was radiant nonetheless and he couldn’t wait for the time they’d get together this evening.

Murmurs started to pass back and forth she wouldn’t do it. Doubt–I love doubt.

As they began though, Rousseau turned his head to the crowd. “It seems you think yourselves to be ready, my friends.”

“Yea, we’ve been ready,” the same obnoxious fellow from before said.

“Oh, but you could not be further from it, sir.” Rousseau wagged a finger on his raised right hand. “And that is okay. You all have fears, you live with struggles, and you feel pain. Yet, again, I say, it is okay. Because from your fears, you will make great leaps. From your struggles, you will learn to overcome. And from your pain, your fortunes will be awoken. Because what you are about to behold here isn’t beyond your own reach or ability. This ‘magic’ as you will see it, it’s drawn only from the magic you provide back to the world.”

Bravo, sir.

Turning back to Anne, Rousseau lifted an expectant brow. “Well, Annie girl . . . do your worst. I suppose I’ve earned it with all I’ve put you through.”

As Dominic chuckled, Anne took a quick look his way. He nodded his confidence in her. With a breath, she took a step forward, clicked back the hammer, and fired straight for Rousseau’s face.

 

*

Continue to part 1.2 of Smoke, Mirrors, Destiny here!

Thanks for reading and hope you’re enjoying the Civilands series. Let me know your thoughts in the comments below, feel free to subscribe for more blog updates, and click here for free book giveaways, including best-sellers!

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Smoke, Mirrors, Destiny Table of Contents:

Part 1.1: Curtain Call

Part 1.2: The Other Side

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Copyright (c) 2017 by N.B. Austin

Published in the U.S. by Moore Bell Productions, Austin.

All Rights Reserved.

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