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deifireRoller Rink on the Edge of Forever, Chapter 8: On the Edge of Despair
Things get worse. And weirder.
( Full summary and link to read from the beginning )
Things get worse. And weirder.
( Full summary and link to read from the beginning )
Jul. 27th, 2017
deifire
Eerie, Indiana ForeverWare Audio CD
Jul. 27th, 2017 01:39 pmfroodleI've not seen this before... is it an alternate book or DVD or VHS cover or something fanmade? Anyway it's awesome.
ETA: Apparently it's an audio cd, something I had no idea even existed. Has anyone else ever listened to any of these?
ETA: Apparently it's an audio cd, something I had no idea even existed. Has anyone else ever listened to any of these?
froodleLight flared behind the tall stained glass windows and for a moment the night outside was brilliant with refracted reds and blues and golds. Across the street, Marshall Teller stood on the white-washed boundary wall around a municipal flower bed and craned his neck trying to see inside.
“It could just be faulty fluorescents,” said Simon, who knew no amount of rock climbing would make him tall enough to peer in through an attic window. In reality, balancing tip-toe on a barrier encircling a mound of occultly-significant bedding plants wasn’t going to help Marshall much either, but Simon wasn’t about to waste his breath pointing that out. He spooned a mouthful of gritty, too-sweet vanilla ice-cream into his mouth using the little plastic spade that had come with the tub, and waited.
“Get real, Simon,” said Marshall, taking off his jacket and using it to boost himself an utterly pointless few millimetres. “It’s a tiny provincial theatre in the heart of downtown Eerie, and it’s been shuttered all summer. All of a sudden there’s lights and weird noises and stage doors left open and banging in the midnight winds, and you think it’s just a flickering bulb?”
Simon looked at the tiny, overpriced tub of ice-cream in his hands. ‘Locally produced!’ screamed the label, as if that would somehow make up for how bad it was. He supposed that for some people it might.
“There’s a poster outside advertising a new play,” he said. “It opens in three days. The concession stand is fully stocked, and manned, and corporeal enough to trick me into wasting three dollars on some really horrible ice-cream less than an hour ago.”
Marshall hopped down off the wall.
“This is worse than I imagined,” he said. “The ghosts must be working with Dash.”
Simon sighed.
( Read the rest of the Trusted Associates verse here )
“It could just be faulty fluorescents,” said Simon, who knew no amount of rock climbing would make him tall enough to peer in through an attic window. In reality, balancing tip-toe on a barrier encircling a mound of occultly-significant bedding plants wasn’t going to help Marshall much either, but Simon wasn’t about to waste his breath pointing that out. He spooned a mouthful of gritty, too-sweet vanilla ice-cream into his mouth using the little plastic spade that had come with the tub, and waited.
“Get real, Simon,” said Marshall, taking off his jacket and using it to boost himself an utterly pointless few millimetres. “It’s a tiny provincial theatre in the heart of downtown Eerie, and it’s been shuttered all summer. All of a sudden there’s lights and weird noises and stage doors left open and banging in the midnight winds, and you think it’s just a flickering bulb?”
Simon looked at the tiny, overpriced tub of ice-cream in his hands. ‘Locally produced!’ screamed the label, as if that would somehow make up for how bad it was. He supposed that for some people it might.
“There’s a poster outside advertising a new play,” he said. “It opens in three days. The concession stand is fully stocked, and manned, and corporeal enough to trick me into wasting three dollars on some really horrible ice-cream less than an hour ago.”
Marshall hopped down off the wall.
“This is worse than I imagined,” he said. “The ghosts must be working with Dash.”
Simon sighed.
( Read the rest of the Trusted Associates verse here )