“You could do the job.” Charles had biceps to back up his orders.

“You could go to hell.” But Charles’ arms were twigs in comparison to David’s.

“So I’ve got to finish it?” Charles was already stripping out of his jacket.

“This job’s gonna do itself.”

“We gotta be sure.”

“He’s already dead.”

“Why you gotta be such a rebel?”

At the bottom of the trench, their quarry stopped crawling and drank shallow breaths. If either of the goons could have seen in the dark, they would have watched him cross himself and so known his heart was still beating.


Of course, I’m always a rebel. But this week, Velvet Verbosity is, too, and I’m scheduling this so I can actually get myself linked up before the linky closes. (Kinda screwed that one up last week. Doh! This scheduling ahead messes with my wee brain.)

About jesterqueen:
Jessie Powell is the Jester Queen. She likes to tell you about her dog, her kids, her fiction, and her blog, but not necessarily in that order.


Rebel — 9 Comments

  1. How do you do it? This is the third new post I read of yours today. Jessie – you’re amazing. Remember that feedback group we talked about at Studio 30+? I could never feedback your work. It’s far superior. Beyond me, I could never find fault in it. I’m sorry I feel like I’m letting you down. Wow.

  2. I have a WordPress account – left over from an abortive attempt at actually USING WordPress – so I can comment here with no problem. That said – I had to read the piece several times to get the “feel” of it – I’ve not read any of your stuff, previously – and now I see that was an oversight. Nicely done.