Miguel @miguel31416@social.cleverlibre.org

People, if you have a pdf that you want converted to epub and cleaned up, or an epub you want cleaned up for that matter, please push it in my direction because I want to do something that needs concentration and precision but not creativity. That well is temporarily dry.

I'm good at this.

(I reserve the right to say "this isn't my catnip" if it isn't my catnip. Won't do horror stories, for instance.)

-¿Qué comemos hoy?
-¿Cómo se llaman las bolas esas de carne, que no me sale?
-¿Albóndigas?
-Eso, comemos ensalada que te estás poniendo como una albóndiga, Jose Miguel.

-Tú estabas con él al final, ¿cuáles fueron sus últimas palabras?.
-Fueron, '¿Cómo que no tengo cojones a cruzar la autovía haciendo la croqueta?'
-¡Siempre se van los mejores!

-¿Me… me has afeitado las cejas mientras dormía, Conchi?
-Sí Josemari, y no pareces sorprendido.

2/2

"You too, when it happens," I assured.

"If," she stated, as if to correct me, "And thank you."

"You're welcome. And if you need anyone to talk to, since booze can only do so much and often make things worse in certain cases, I have several pamphlets of places and people you could contact," I said, reaching into the help-box under the bar.

She didn't answer.

Because she was gone. Only a gray feather dusted in sulphur remained.

Sometimes I wish the mysterious ones tipped a little better.

1/2

"If I die I’m bound for hell," she mumbled into her empty cup.

I poured her a free shot; I owned the bar, it was the least I could do for someone having such thoughts. Just the one though.

"Ah, I didn’t mean to make you feel sorry for me."

"I hope it'll help you feel a little less doomed. These are uncertain times for everyone."

She smirked and shrugged, "You are so kind. When your time comes; you’ll get your pick of heavens."

#TootFic #MicroFiction #Writing #TerylsTales #UrbanFantasy