Sparkly!Fairy!Prostitute!

Time for a teaser!

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“So,” Josha said, his feet up on the railing of Beckan's balcony, his ass on the porch swing. They were watching the tightropers continue stringing their lines, and watching the fairies on the streets rushing around with their heads covered, like they were expecting rain. A news report blared from inside, where Beckan had left her father in front of the TV.

She knew what Josha was going to say, but she gave him nothing. She almost always knew what Josha was going to say. She loved him very much but had long ago given up hope.

“So,” Josha said. “Scrap?”

“He's teaching me to read.”

“How charitable.”

“Not really. Selfish. He wants someone to read his stupid stories. He's desperate.”

“Cricket won't read them?”

“Who?”

“His cousin,” Josha said. “They live together."

“I didn't know his name.” She had only seen him a few times. He was usually walking from room to room, usually with headphones jammed over his ears.

Josha said, “So you're really not crazy about him.”

“Scrap?”

“Either.”

“I told you.”

“Since you don't know his family or anything. Don't know anything about him.” He gave her a sloppy grin. “After all, you know me. So.”

She watched the trightropers instead of responding. Josha said “Cricket” quietly to himself a few times. “Must be a genius if he avoids the stories,” he mused.

“Cold-hearted genius, maybe.”

“A genius is a genius. I don't need another heart, anyway.”

Then the first bombs went off, and they sprang towards each other as if they had previously been stretched apart. Beckan felt some heat on her cheek, like the city was breathing on her, but she couldn't see where the bomb fell or detect any damage. From the porch of Beckan's house, at the bottom of the hill, it was hard to see much of anything.