Legal Theft Flash Fiction: Older Games (906 words)

She lit the flare, and fire danced off the carved dome of the temple. She stared, gun still raised, smoke curling off the barrel into the ice-sharp night air. Stone was not supposed to catch fire quite like that.

But it was burning merrily.

It took Traesa a moment to recover. She wasn’t supposed to stay on this roof after she set off the flare. One obvious shot, visible to nearly anyone in the sloping, sprawling city, and she was meant to scurry down, before anyone in a uniform could trace it the shot back to her. Now that the temple was crawling with fire, she feared the priests coming for her as well. And she hated their lectures worst of all.

Continue reading

Legal Theft Flash Fiction: Basilica (446 words)

I don’t like going to my grandparent’s church. I don’t like stepping toward it and catching that first cool breath under the steeple shadow. It towers over the street, a long stone-faced hall with a tower at the front. The windows are dull from the outside, muted stained colors inside stark lead lines that always give the impression of holding something in rather than giving the building room to breathe. It looks like a fortress. Stepping through the doors, though, I’ve always felt exposed.

The ceiling is too high. The walls are too far apart, and painted into fragile pieces of art that can’t be touched, so can’t hold anything out. Every line of the building is gilt and polished and carved and glorified. I walk down the aisles and feel like I’ve slipped inside a faberge egg. Every surface is painted, then hung in gold. I sit in a pew, and there is an odd impression that I have to stay still. My usual easy seat would be too rough on the redwood bench.

And I feel small.

Continue reading