Homecoming


It was hard going back. Hard, but it felt right, like slipping on a favorite pair of jeans. Blearily I stepped off the steps of the bus shouldering my carry on and lighting a cigarette almost simultaneously. After taking a long drag I readjusted the pistol to make sure it wasn’t visible. Stood there for a moment while the nicotine worked its magic and worked mine.

I drew a drifting circle of smoke around my eye while speaking ancient words under my breath, little grunting snarls that escaped drew some attention from passers by. There weren’t many of them at this hour, in this place, in this town.

When the casting completed I felt my left eye grow heavy and dry as my vision shaded itself a reddish hue. I swept my head back and forth as I exited the terminal, scanning people for their intent. My gaze landed on a pretty thing parked next to a mean looking blonde.

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