Excerpt from “Crooks”

Back in February, I wrote a story prompted by the theme “love and loss” and the word “evening.” A later draft of this story is currently out there in the world looking for a home. This passage, which will introduce you to the speculative romance’s dorky and homesick main character, was cut from an early draft.

He didn’t like it here.

In search of something familiar, one day Thilo followed a stream down to the sea. It wasn’t far. He thought it likely that when the temple city was first built, the trees had been burned clear so that the city could be seen from the shore. It wasn’t far, through what was now jungle along the stream, but by the time he got there, his head ached from the sun.

Reaching the sea, he took his glasses and clothes off, waded hopefully into the ocean.

It offered little relief. Here even the ocean was strange, flat, chill-less. He swam a little way, ducking into a wave-less tepid sea, the jungle becoming blurred soft green. He didn’t dare go far in case he lost sight of the gash of sand where the small stream ran out and marked the way back to the temples. He pushed away from the soft sand beneath his feet and floated in the glare of the tropical sun and thought of the way the temple stones hissed as the witches’ light danced across them.

Something brushed against Thilo’s leg, while he floated in the sea.