Misterdoe's Fiction

I walked into the house — mansion, really — following the instructions that had been mailed to me by “Anson Freedom Fighters.” In the back of my mind I couldn’t help but wonder if it was a trap, or if it was Robin herself using the promise of help from the AFF to humor me. [...]

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That’s not even an attempt at a working title for whatever story this winds up going into. I just couldn’t come up with a name for it. It won’t be “Immaterial Girl,” though, since I already have “Emma-terial” as a working name for a story featuring a very similar character. Don’t really have a story [...]

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As I entered the house, a bottle of beer came floating my way. “Hi, honey,” said Marla’s disembodied voice in greeting, as unseen lips pecked me on the cheek.
“Hi, hon,” I answered, grabbing the open beer bottle from midair and taking a swig. “How was your day?”
“You know, same ol’ same ol’,” she answered as [...]

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The sun rose on the beautiful desert landscape, just like it had the day before, and like it would the next day. A city dweller unused to such a site would have been in awe, but to Bud Green, a cashier pulling the graveyard shift at a 24-hour gas station on a lonely stretch of [...]

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(To read the story from the beginning, click here)
I felt the van begin moving, and then suddenly stop. The hands pinning my shoulders and holding onto my wrists let go, and my blindfold was removed. The back door swung open, and the leather gloves were floating there again, holding what appeared to be a wad [...]

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