Book!AeneasWouldNever:So I want to extend a heartfelt, sincere apology to ULS, for not previously considering the important issue she just raised, and for not noticing fat-shaming in fics I’ve recommended to her and to all of you in the past. I’ll do better in the future, because of what you’ve written today. Thank you for that.
Book!AeneasWouldNever:Also, ULS, I’m so sorry the people in your personal life—the men you’ve dated—have made you feel judged or shamed. More sorry than I can say.
Book!AeneasWouldNever:Takecare. I’ll be back... sometime. I’ll miss you.
After that, Marcus set his status to invisible again. He logged out.
And then, as he’d done so often before, he wrote until his chest no longer ached with each breath he took.
DO-SI-DANGER
INT. THE FARNSWORTH BARN – EVENING
Thebarn is lofty and hay-strewn, the lighting soft from lanterns in glass canning jars. Other couples are still square-dancing, but CHRISTOPHER and MILLIE have found a quiet corner. She brushes a bit of straw off his expensive suit, and they both laugh.
MILLIE
Only a month ago, I couldn’t have imagined this.
CHRISTOPHER
Imagined what?
He takes her hand, holding it gently. Tenderly.
MILLIE
You, allemande-ing left, easy as the breeze. Us, together.
CHRISTOPHER
Never to be parted again, Millie. Never.
She moves in front of him for a kiss. Suddenly, a gunshot, then screaming. Millie collapses in slow motion, face blank, blood blooming on her chest, as he desperately tries to catch her, to revive her, but it’s too late. By the time he looks up, all traces of the shooter are gone.
CHRISTOPHER
Millie! Millie, don’t leave me!
Butshe’s past answering. Face to the rafters, he howls his grief and despair and rage to the universe, knowing that he now has new motivation, new goals: to become a better man in her memory, and to avenge her. Her death will be the key to his character arc now—exactly as she would have wanted.
13
THEFIRST DAY ON APRIL’S NEW JOB, HER COWORKERStreated her to takeout sushi for lunch, with a side of light interrogation.
According to Heidi, it could have been worse. Much, much worse.
“They have this rendition of ‘Blowin’ in the Wind,’” she’d whispered near the printer that morning. “Mel changed the lyrics to ‘Contaminants, my friend, are blowin’ in the wind.’”
“Wow,” April had managed. “That’s... wow.”
Her colleague nodded emphatically. “There’s a verse about air-monitoring stations too. Pablo and Kei contributed that bit.”
“And they considered performing that song for me at lunch? In a sort of welcoming ceremony?”
Honestly, despite Heidi’s bugged-out eyes, it sounded amazing. After a week like this last one, April embraced any and all distractions from her tangled thoughts. A horrible folk concert promised much greater distraction and entertainment value than munching a sandwich at her desk alone, as she had done during her first lunch at her old office.
Creativity in any form, she appreciated. Especially when said creativity would have to cease at the end of the lunch hour, should it prove particularly ear-piercing. However, she also appreciatedthe kindness of not imposing that creativity upon her without an invitation.
