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    Heroes and Civilians (HD Battlespace Version)
    Heroes and Civilians (HD Battlespace Version)
    Heroes and Civilians (HD Battlespace Version)
    Ebook52 pages41 minutes

    Heroes and Civilians (HD Battlespace Version)

    By Adam Ford

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Short stories and very short stories about superheroes, magicians, octuplets, giant monsters, rabbits, bears, robots and astronauts.

    A man confronts an imaginary friend from his past. A pyrokinetic jungle queen mourns her lover. A runaway robot and its teen pilot escape to the edges of the solar system. Terraformers on an alien planet argue about the chain of command. The truth behind those bears on wheels is revealed.

    In these short fiction and flash fiction stories, Adam Ford explores the territory of genre writing and finds a vulnerable, human heart at its core.

    “Adam Ford exudes a control of the flash form, as well as an adherence to the principles of fiction, in a way not seen before by this reviewer.” - Thomas DeMary, PANK.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAdam Ford
    Release dateJan 7, 2011
    ISBN9781458142696
    Heroes and Civilians (HD Battlespace Version)

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      Book preview

      Heroes and Civilians (HD Battlespace Version) - Adam Ford

      Heroes and Civilians

      Adam Ford

      Smashwords Edition

      copyright 2010 Adam Ford

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com to discover other works by this author.

      Thank you for your support.

      Rabbit.

      Yeah, we were close once. Back before I cleaned up. Thing is, he didn't leave immediately. I was sober for years before the last time I saw him. Over time we bumped into each other less and less frequently. Initially it would just be that he would be waiting for me in the kitchen at breakfast instead of standing at the foot of my bed. After a while I'd only see him outside the house - at the coffee shop or the library, and occasionally on my lunch break. It was always good to see him, but our conversations were becoming stilted. Awkward. Forced. In time the awkwardness became embarrassing. The last time I saw him he was drunk. Really drunk. I'd seen him tipsy before, seen him trip giggling over cracks in the sidewalk, pulling me down with him as he collapsed in a huge furry mess, but I'd never seen him angry drunk like this. I was standing in line at the bank and he stormed up to me out of nowhere. I turned to face him and he dug a finger into my chest so hard that I could feel his claw through my jacket. I looked into his pink, bloodshot eyes. His breath stank of bourbon. I managed a smile and asked him how he'd been these last few months. He hawked and spat a wad of orange saliva into my face. I stumbled back, reaching for my handkerchief. I got somethin' to say to you, pal, he said, his Irish brogue slurring with the booze. I don't believe in you either. I closed my eyes and wiped my face clean. When I looked up he was gone. That was eighteen years ago.

      Veldt.

      They were all too polite to insist that Harriet share the field-glasses, so they squinted into the setting sun and tried to make out the shapes for themselves. Esme was reminded of her first time in the Veldt, with that charming young guide from Johannesburg, the one with the soft blond hair running the length of his sun-bronzed forearms. Maddie felt a thrill of nausea or something even more primal as she listened to the almost musical sounds, and remembered sitting close beside her first piano teacher. Bee closed her eyes and tried to ignore the slow, insistent bead of sweat that traced the curve of her spine underneath her inappropriately heavy slip.

      List.

      She said There are so many reasons to love you.

      He said What's number 29?

      She said The way you mix muffin batter.

      Every night before they fell asleep he would ask her about another number.

      What's number 62? he would ask.

      The way you talk when you're on the phone to your father, she would say.

      What's number 85?

      The way you suck my big toe when we're fucking.

      Number 2?

      The smell behind your ears.

      He remembered them all and kept a written list hidden in his sock drawer.

      One

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