|This is a story about a man who built a house for the woman|
he loves, who happens to be a sorceress.
For the uninitiated, I was writing a chapter a week in a short story a month over thirteen months. Each chapter was around 1500 words and all the stories interconnected. This story introduced a character named Marion who was this world's sorcerer, so it's more a fantasy than it is a science fiction tale, but even so it's more a romance than a fantasy.
So, without any further ado, here's the opening to Two Hands, at the end of which you can click and read the entire chapter. The link to the next chapter is there at the end so you can click right through if you like.
See you Friday.
Thirty feet of hissing rubber hose with two inches of stainless steel coupling on the end was threatening every mechanic in the garage. George Funk had already been hit in the temple and was down. Dale Crown was trying to get to the air compressor the hose was attached to, but slipped in an oil spill and tipped over a Craftsman tool chest. No one could get close to the injured man now. The garage’s owner calmly went to the electrical panel at the back of the garage and found the fuse switch. The lights, the radio and the air compressor all stopped working, the hose flailed another few seconds while the pressure escaped.
“George, you okay?” Brad Martin was next to the downed mechanic having flipped the fuse switch. He grabbed a couple of wadded up shop towels and put them under George’s head. “Can you hear me, guy?”
“Yeah,” George said, groggy and with his eyes closed. His left temple was purple and bleeding where he’d been hit by the errant air hose.
“Sandy’s calling an ambulance, man. I want you to talk with them and if they want you to go to the hospital, you’re going with ‘em, no arguments.”
Click here to read the story