ALAMANDINE'S SONG
Adult UF, 80,000 words
I burst out of the door, all goosebumps and cold sweat, and held it closed behind me. Heat and humidity grabbed me. It would take some time to walk off the chill of the store's air conditioner. I started making that happen. In a few steps, I felt the slight "pop" of walking past the store's magical wards. I kept trucking.
I took a moment to breathe in Philly. Above me a sliver of open sky peeked between the buildings. The city lights obliterated the stars, one of the few things I didn't like about urban living, but a blind man could have seen the shooting star that streaked across just then.
I ambled along, happy to have caught a glimpse of the meteor. I wondered how many other people had seen it, even in a city this size. My feet carried me down the usual path toward home, my comfy couch, my dog and a good book. Walking with my eyes on the sky was pure, unadulterated dumb. I'd spent my whole life in Philly. I knew better than to wander around, not checking down dark alleys and not peering behind crouching stoops.
He was just crossing the street, or so I thought. But instead of breezing by, he grabbed my hand. Pulled it across my chest. Snapped his body behind mine. I couldn't see him. Time slowed down. It's like we're doing the tango. My assailant used my own arm to pin my body to his. It wasn't until something cold and sharp pressed into the soft space under my ear that I realized just how fucked I was.
