31 July, 2019

Found While Recycling

'Sup everyone?

I've been trying to get my house and/or life into order recently, including recycling some old notebooks. But I never like to ditch notebooks until I've had a flip through them, just on the off-chance that I wrote something brilliant.

I'm not sure this counts as brilliant, but it's a piece of writing so I figured I'd share it anyway. Totally out of context of course - I suspect I imagined the scene rather than a wider plot to fit it into. But oh well.

Enjoy!

Nancy

Like the wings of a manta ray under the ocean, her coat moved rhythmically in the wind. The fabric was light and moved silently – black wings brushing against black legs. The shoes were the noisy part – click, click, click – heels on brick paving. That, and the wind itself. The unnatural breeze, sprung from nowhere with no notice, keened between the buildings. A national flag snapped loudly against its pole, then wrapped around it and, despite the continuing wind, hung limp. Those geographic divisions were no longer relevant in the face of the gathering storm. Click, click, click. Heels against the paving, assertive strides that carried her on her way with purpose and without hesitation. Another sound joined the wind’s howl: the gentle chuck of a door latch, the soft sound of rubber soles on the paving, the brush of fabric as clothed arms moved to give silent signals. Quiet. You go there. Follow her. Go around; intercept her. Wait. Aim. Fire. A change in the sounds: a quick click-click as her feet came together and she stood still in the wind. The crack of a gunshot, precision aim at a terrifying foe. The dark sky lit up, as if the gunshot had switched on a light in heaven. A bolt of hot electricity hit the flying bullet. Molten metal splashed onto the ground, halfway between soldier and target. The black mantra-ray wings of her coat hung straight and still. Her mouth curved into a smile.

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