Doc Sherwood
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Nanine
I suspected this might be a bad idea, I was already so anxious about it. I'd decided to go to a dance. Just possibly I was overdressed, and I was definitely clean! I’d scrubbed myself pink and my hair was tucked behind my ears, irritating. Unfortunately overcoming anxiety and nerves wasn’t so easy! I gulped down hard on both, then timidly decided myself and took my flutter off into the warm evening.
By Doc Sherwood3 years ago in Fiction
The Magnetic Stones, Chapter Three
As the Mini-Flashes filed out of the classroom, Miss Jade caught up with Mini-Flash Moon and said to walk with her. So Mini-Flash Moon did, making polite replies to the small talk until she and Miss Jade had put school premises beneath them and climbed the graven steps that zig-zagged to the cusp of the crater.
By Doc Sherwood3 years ago in Fiction
The Magnetic Stones, Chapter Two
Miss Jade’s bodice and camis and heels, vivid green against the white of her skin, were some days the only blaze of bold colour the Mini-Flashes saw in their limited-palette world. Older than them, but young, she wore her fawn tresses in one sumptuous fall. Sometimes too she was the sharpest pang of provocation the first gender felt in a day.
By Doc Sherwood3 years ago in Fiction
Iterations, Chapter Five
Joe bet Dylan would have had it in an instant, but fortunately Mini-Flash Splitsville was there ahead of either of the hims. It was going to call for some split-second Splitsville too, and the bolts from the blue weren’t making matters any more convenient, but deftly she and her other Joe negotiated every hazard until at last they were properly aligned. He threw his fire, and Mini-Flash Splitsville popped a portal in the path of that flame-burst then reopened it inside Frank’s shield.
By Doc Sherwood3 years ago in Fiction
Iterations, Chapter Three
Joe was going to need Scientooth’s digital detachment for what was immediately to come, so Level Two would suffice. The shipyard’s second tier was given over to the main business of engineering and assembly. Its background was an endless line of unfinished nosecones. Scrolling along before these, tiny Mini-Flash Splitsville in her computerized chariot dodged swinging booms, opened portals to dispense with rolling oil-drums, and negotiated service-platforms for which timing was the difference between a handy lift or a plunge to the smelted steel sea which forever bubbled along the bottom bar.
By Doc Sherwood3 years ago in Fiction
