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Thursday, April 17, 2008

The Cypher's Tale 23 Alt 3

index

"Momma, may I have some more bread?"
"You may."

The apartment was flavored with earthtones and style from ages past. Patterned drapes. A wooden table. Ceramic dishes with cooked food on them. A yellowboned boy and a caramel woman, both with silky black hair. Beyond a set of faux wood columns and a change of floor, her eyepatch lay on a table with keys and cards and a purse.

Her son sat to her left, where she could keep an eye on him, eating a fifth piece of yellow bread slathered in ginger cream.

An encringing BHACK! blew the door open. It slapped the adjoining wall, splintering composite. A shadow flitted out of view and another one threw itself through the doorway, sweeping the room with a rifle.

Brenda hauled up on the kitchen table, sending plates and tureens crashing to the floor. Micah's eyes boggled. His mother leapt from her chair and tackled him, landing behind the counter that set off the kitchen. Another shadow, clattering with grey web and shiny, unused equipment, followed behind the first. They walked forward, trisecting the livingroom area between them.

Brenda crouched over her son in a dark purple, voluminous dress. She slid a long, greasy fillet knife from the counter. It flipped in her palm, blade forward, point down. Five soft, lotioned digits relaxed into the assassin's grip.

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