The Peninsula

The Fiction and Poetry Archive of Liana Mir and scribblemyname

Dangerous Work

Mar
20

Nanere first picked up the knives when she was a little girl. She rammed one into the knee of her mother’s love. When he howled and swung, she slashed his arm.

When he was finally gone, still cursing her, she gently washed her mother’s face and applied salve to her bruises, then fixed her mother’s makeup for her.

“He was our next meal,” her mother slurred.

Nanere thought of the shipyards and dangerous work available for tiny bodies that could fit into the small spaces between mechanical parts. She hardened her face and stiffened her shoulders. “I’m our next meal.”

Daily Drabble 2018, Drabble, Original Fiction, Riftspace , , , , , , 0 Comment

Stray Child

Feb
20

“Kasuru?”

Kasuru looked up from the ship plans he’d been poring over with Nanere for half the night. He was the designer; she was the builder ripping apart his every bad idea.

It was well past when Rhezere went to bed. The boy was getting longer, and he looked at Nanere like he was deciding how much vulnerability to show with someone else present.

He sighed and trailed over to the couch behind Kasuru’s worktable and flopped down with his blanket. In moments, his breath evened in sleep.

“You have a kid,” Nanere said.

Kasuru shook his head. “He’s not mine.”

She looked pointedly over at the boy curled into his blanket, choosing to sleep near Kasuru rather than in his own dark room and bed.

“He is.”

Ficlet, Original Fiction, Riftspace , , , , , , 0 Comment

Healing Moment

Feb
20

He knew it was a bad decision the moment he did it. It had been months since the last time Rhezere contemplated the knives in the drawer with more than clinical disinterest in slicing food. Now, the blood welled up over his fingers as he cradled his arm and stared down at it.

He felt nothing, then sudden overwhelming panic flooded into the spaces where his heart was numb.

He went without thinking, moving quickly into Kasuru’s office where he was meeting with the ship builder Nanere.

She stared.

Kasuru said nothing, just pulled Rhezere to the space beside him and took down the healing scanner, a steadying hand firm on Rhezere’s shoulder.

Nanere dropped her gaze back to the plans they’d been discussing. Kasuru patiently ran over the arm until the wound no longer gaped. The flesh still looked raw and blotchy, less severe but not fully healed.

Kasuru wrapped it in bandages, then tucked his fingers under Rhezere’s chin to draw his gaze up. “We’ll let it rest overnight then look at it again.”

Nothing could be healed in a moment.

Rhezere knew that. Something inside him eased at realizing he’d been willing to be healed at all.

Daily Drabble 2018, Double Drabble, Original Fiction, Riftspace , , , , , , 0 Comment

Do It Again

Feb
19

Nanere isn’t interested in most men. They’re too high maintenance, interested in keeping her around, being there for her, and insinuating themselves into her life.

She doesn’t want that. She takes what she wants, builds the ships her queen asks of her, then moves on to the next port to bury herself anew in metal flesh.

Then there’s Kasuru.

She traces his scars at night, and he kisses her fingers without answering unspoken questions. They drink coffee, argue over designs and engineering, then separate to their work without a word or call.

It’s nice enough to do again. And again.

Daily Drabble 2018, Drabble, Original Fiction, Riftspace , , , , 0 Comment