#9 Origami

The green haze over New City stank of burnt oil mixed with sulfur fumes from Compton

Paperworks. A lone balloon lifted off Compton's tower trailing a large sign advertising

something. All Pigeon could see was Clara's face and her long arm draped across the copy.

Clara could sell anything.

He checked the time on his pocket watch: quarter past.

The portal opened behind him with a belch of steam. The destination: the Badlands. The

goal: to drag that fool Roosevelt back to New City. The means: this time and space folding

technological wonder that may not work.

It did.

#4 ALL-U-CAN-EAT

“ALL-U-CAN-EAT” in neon, over the windowless door. The snow changes to sleet as she steps out of the car. Her phone is on speaker: Yuning’s not picking up so a thin, sexless voice says, “no one is available right.” She cuts the message off.

He chose this place. Why?

“PUSH.” The smell of questionable Chinese take-out hits her as the door opens. Gristly General Tao’s and fluorescent wonton soup. There is an old phrase for this feeling, she thinks, and then remembers “gorge rising.” She remembers it, right as a boney finger pierces her neck.

He chose this place.