Artemis Drifting

Just because she tippietoes, doesn't mean she's a creepin'.


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“It’s that time of the sunset again.” she murmured, staring at the orange sky over the rim of her glasses.

Her companion sunk deeper into the half egg-shell chair, “Why can’t you just say how you feel?”

She smiled, an ivory flash showing between two fingers that framed her lips in a horizontal peace sign. “But that is how I feel.”

“You’re a human being, not a time of day. Though with how weird you are, I’m starting to doubt the former part of my observation.”

The hundred year old seat bottom creaked beneath her as she rose to her feet and then stretched onto the balls of her feet. “That’s how I got here you know.” Two fingers came up and tapped on the shallow dent of her right temple.


She closed one eye, grinned, and arched her thumb to resemble the hammer of a gun.


One Response

  1. I stumbled on this site by accident, but it is a very interesting site. I love writing and reading short stories. This story is cute, is there any more of it?

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