The witness was beautiful, in a way that was almost hard to look at. His face was abstract and fashionable, all eyes and angles, with a luminous innocence too perfect to be entirely sincere…
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“Wow.” Tiny Tim shakes his head slowly. Peels off his crimson domino mask and slaps it down on the meeting table. “That makes three of us.”
“We’re marked men….” Dust Mite’s voice trembles. He tugs at the hood of his pale gray body suit. “Every costumed avenger with the power to shrink…”
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The Drabblecast continues this two-part series with “The Golden Age of Fire Escapes (Part II)” by John Aegard. If you haven’t heard Part I, you should listen to it here.
We also conclude Connor Choadsworth’s adventures in “In Search of the Mongolian Death Worm.”
The crowd was lined up six deep along the parade route. They ignored the Deputy Mayor who sat, lightly sedated, between his doctor and nurse in the Santa sleigh. Instead, they chanted endlessly for the Marshall, who would not leave the stifling warmth of his coach, or even roll down a window to wave. Their applause echoed off the surrounding skyscrapers. “Take off your mask!” they cried..
Enjoy!
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