Tuesday, January 08, 2008

Stolen Dreams

Pennie lay back against the grass, oblivious of the damp and mud, and looked up at Winston. “It’s just so unfair,” she said. “I’d only just got my life back together after that horrendous divorce and this happens. I’m sure Mr. Spencer would have fallen for my charms eventually.”

“Yeah. You had some great charms.” Winston grinned in recollection. He inspected the dampness of a tree stump and sat down. “Hang on,” he said. “You mean you were trying to pull this Spenser bloke while you were going out with me?”

“Just keeping my options open.” Pennie fingered her Y-incision scar, running her fingers over the stitches. “It’s not like we were destined to get married or anything. You dated that Valerie woman, after all.”

“Not until after you’d died,” Winston pointed out. “I hadn’t a clue that you were treating us as casual.”

“Well it’s too late now.” Pennie sat up and stared out over the lake. “That cow stole all my dreams.

“Don’t call her that,” said Winston. “I’ve known her for more than a year. She even helped me out once. She’s nice.”

“She killed me. She’s an assassin.”

“Yes, but she’s nice when she’s not working.”

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