Monday, February 09, 2015

Spinning Out

The car whipped around like a baton wielded by a meth-fueled majorette. Scenery blurred into dizzying swaths of white and gray. I cast fast and dirty, knowing even if I could get the spell off, it wouldn’t be enough.

Nate screamed his rage as the wheel tore out of his hands. His head bounced off the window, but he still scrabbled to regain control.

Spitting magic, trusting words and order to ritual memory, body jumbled and tossed, my spell ended with a cry as we slammed into a snowbank.

The interior was speckled with frost and blood. Nate wasn’t moving.


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