She felt her eyes start to droop and she drifted into sleep. She dreamt of Adam. She dreamt that he had come to her house. He told her she was beautiful and began peeling the clothes off her skin. He kissed every inch of her body worshipfully until he made his way to he...
Fifteen beautiful teenage robots walking around in the school uniform, pausing and just standing in the dark common room every night and reactivating when the students came in, had become normal-ish. More than that, it was beginning to feel less like a crazy science experiment than a mass craving...
. . Before He Was Born ‘There are no tyrants where there are no slaves.’ José Rizal 1 My name is José. In the Philippines it’s pronounced the English way, with an h sound at the start. In Arabic, rather like in Spanish, it begins with a kh sound. In Portuguese, though it’s written the same wa...
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The altar overflowed with white and yellow spring flowers, the brasswork gleamed, and even the ancient organ was in fine tune, thanks to a generous last-minute donation towards its restoration made by the baby’s grandparents Duke and Duchess of Claremont. Millie stood with the rest of the christe...
I stirred before dawn, warm beneath the extra galley blanket. I could feel the ship pitch ever so lightly, rocking us where we’d fallen asleep on deck chairs pushed together. The smell of salty ocean air awakened my senses, filling my lungs with the newness of day and the ...
Social engagement was limited to largely symbolic acts like helping individual widows and other ‘defenceless’ inhabitants. According to the chronicler Wipo, Conrad II brushed aside his courtiers’ advice to hasten to his coronation and instead stopped to listen to petitions from a peasant, an orph...
Lane said, correctly guessing my desire to reach across the car and strangle Rupert. He put his hand firmly on my shoulder, preventing the accident I was in danger of causing. “For now,” Lane said, “we need to deal with the fact that Malcolm isn’t the killer.” “It made so much sense,” I said. “I ...
She usually loved these quiet Sunday evenings. She could relax, plan for the next week and practice her flute. But tonight the silence seemed to press in around her, leaving her feeling anxious and restless. She’d taken her flute out an hour ago but then wandered back into...
He walked up Swallow Street, trying to make sense of a murder investigation that seemed to be going in three different directions at once. The next logical step would be to speak to Marie-Thérèse, the Duchesse d’Angoulême, herself. But the daughter of the last crowned King of France was currently...
Sleep pulled at her edges and softening corners. Maude’s hard hands prompted her body to stay upright with short tugs and prods whenever she felt herself start to lean. She was sick of apologizing. ‘Sorry’ when she swayed. ‘Sorry’ as she blinked herself back awake. ‘Sorry’ as she moved an arm to ...