I wrote this last year for Spooky Halloween Drabbles (Indy Authors Press, 2014). Then Chuck Wendig called for 100 word flash fiction last Friday, and I thought I'd share it here, (and therefore there) as well.




     So I'm downtown, walking in Shadow having just dined, and this guy is slouching towards me out of Faerie. He’s ordinary, mostly: long hair, sharp features, a perilous look in slitted eyes. Too many teeth. I notice him, but I have places to be. Then soft on the air, I hear the liquid syllables of my name. I freeze, he laughs.      “Remember the whale bao? The girls of Sang de Bayeaux?”     Now I have to look right at him, damn it.     "No, sorry, I don’t.”      It’s not quite a lie. There are rules, and my hands are ringed in iron.