Writing

(#00005)

“I don’t know why I agreed to this,” grumbled Rael.

“It’s all ye can eat sushi, what’s not t’ love?” Shayde primped, using her reflection in the sneeze guard as a mirror. “Is he here yet? Can you see him?”

“Nobody is wearing any variety of dead foliage.”

“Pink carnation. It’s a flower. Flowers are prettier.” Shayde evidently gave up on getting her flyaway hair to behave itself and started attacking her clothes. “Ye sure I look all righ’?”

Rael sighed. If it wasn’t for the free food… “You are currently aesthetically pleasing in all respects. Your body is clear evidence of physical fitness and the perfect shape to suit you.”

“You say the nicest things,” Shayde deadpanned.

“Oh dear,” Rael pointed.

The cogniscent entering the bar was wearing all fourteen items currently identified in the Galactic Standard Dictionary as a ‘carnation’. All of them were pink. None of them were a flower.

“At least she’s enthusiastic,” offered Rael.

“Aw, puir darlin’,” whimpered Shayde, whose accent always got worse when she was flustered. “How do I break it to her I’m cishet?”

First crime scene. Ever. Nobody else had to know this. Just walk like you own the place. Act like you belong. Check out the corpse, note any significant details and toddle on back to the office. No big deal.

Alice thusly walked with confidence until she encountered the first thing nobody told her.

Death has a smell.

The bodies in anatomy and dissection classes were sanitized. They had the subtle odor of death, because nobody can really stop it. This was a

(#00003)

Ax'and'l stared at the brown furry hills with legs. They were everywhere. “These are wombats.” He did not understand his human companion’s fear. They weren’t doing anything much at all.

“Yes!”

“And we’ve known each other for… ten years?”

“Yes!” Hwell was still trying to climb the walls.

“Then for ten years it hasn’t been always wombats.” Ax'and'l scanned them. “And