THE DEAL OF ETHAN MOIRÉ
I Soldiers had always said shots sound like angry bees. Ethan didn’t know what angry bees sounded like, but he doubted they sounded like this. He was also in doubt that bees could chip away at the wall above him. Ethan ruffled his hair, throwing bits of plaster and mortar onto the grass he was lying on. A small, metal ball also fell onto the grass. It must have bounced off the wall and landed in his hair. It had been meant for him.
Valley under Fire
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Holbert removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose as the sunlight he was using for reading disappeared behind hewn, limestones cliffs. The cliffs rising either side of the train tracks was lined by large firs, plunging the carriage into a daylight darkness. With decent reading light gone, Holbert sighed and threw Emotional biochemistry in western dragons back into the table . He pulled out a cigarette and lighter from his vest pocket and lit up, taking a few quick puffs. The click-clack of the tracks ran underneath his feet, vibrating through Holbert’s body and making him realise how tense his shoulders were. He pushed his shoulders back into the cushioned seat, placed his glasses on and looked at the papers splayed across the booth’s table.