Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 46314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
It’s a plane. But not a modern jet. It’s a big old plane, a shiny metallic body and oversized propellors. It looks big, and solid, and safe.
When I board, I discover that the seats are twice the width of modern airliners, and much further apart. There is a full bar at the rear of the plane, and more than enough room to lay out flat on the seats. The color scheme is soothing greens and blues.
“This!” I declare, spreading my arms in a way that would mean slapping at least four other passengers in the face on one of our more modern planes. “Why did we stop flying this way?”
“Profits,” Order says.
“Profits suck,” I complain. “This is so much more… adult. Not in the sexy way, just in the treating people like they’re real adults sort of way.”
It’s a weird tangent, but I’m on it, suddenly realizing just how juvenile, maybe even infantilizing, most modern experiences are. In a proper airport, we’d be herded through security stations, being barked at and ordered around like barely sentient stock. I’m not a fan of air travel, generally, but this feels like an experience I’m going to enjoy.
“Wait. Who is flying this thing?”
“I am,” Order says. “It’s my plane.”
“You’re a pilot?”
“I am many things,” he smiles. “Having six hands comes in very handy. Are you ready to go?”
I have an impulse to say no, but in reality, the answer is yes. There’s nobody to say goodbye to, and that’s a sad revelation. Everybody I cared about, and everybody I thought cared about me, has picked sides, sides that exclude me. Order and I are leaving to escape our lives and the people we care about most. That makes us both somewhat morose, and I end up spending very little time back in the lovely passenger cabin. Instead, I take the copilot’s chair, and Obigor and I curl up next to Order as he sends us skyward.
Sometimes, solving problems is as easy as running away from them.
Right?
14
Months later…
I am wrapped in a million strings of silk, hanging happily in the shade of an old gum tree. Heat makes the red and gold rocky sands extending out into desert seem to shimmer and dance. The tree trunk boasts a sleepy spider. I would have freaked out about that once upon a time, but I’ve become so accustomed to bug related content that the massive beast barely registers on my radar.
A whip cracks in the dusty air, making motes of red sand dance in the slowly setting sun. It is propelled by the upper right hand of my arachnid lover, and the tip of the lash has just finished licking against my ass.
“Owch!” I make the noise mostly to satisfy Order.
My twisted master has set me in slow, spinning motion, his web not quite entirely covering my scantily clad form. As I turn slowly he is flicking the tip of the whip against the parts of my skin he can reach. Thanks to the devilish wedgie, that includes the lower parts of my ass cheeks, and my sensitive thighs. I, as usual, have been a bad girl.
“Have you learned your lesson?” He asks the question with far too much hope for my liking. Of course I have not learned my lesson. I am not even sure what the lesson is supposed to be. It’s far too warm and I am far too cozy and sleepy to learn anything.
Order is naked from the waist up, aside from a broad-brimmed hat with corks hanging from little strings. They’re supposed to keep the flies off, but I would have thought a spider like himself would welcome the occasional fly. He is tanned as hell, every single one of his six arms bearing the hallmark of an antipodean sun. The red line down the center of his chest has taken on a deeper bronzed hue as well.
He has adapted to our Australian home, which is an old farm house located deep in the outback where basically nothing happens and nobody lives. These are Aboriginal lands, and also home to some farmers, though what they’re specifically farming, I am not sure because the farms here are millions of acres in size and it’s common to not see an animal for years at a time. Unless you count snakes, spiders, scorpions, lizards, and dingos as animals, in which case, they’re everywhere.
Obigor is asleep on a deck chair, which is underneath a multicolored striped parasol. He sleeps most of the day out here, which is fine because there’s very little to do. This is a land of spindly trees and making your own entertainment.
I, of course, am in trouble. That has not changed since we lived in the USA. Being all the way in Australia means Chief Connor can’t call me with his magic wolf handling powers. I’m free of the obligations of my unintentional family. But I’m not free of my own instinct for getting into trouble.”