Recently in Guest Posts Category

This is a guest entry written by Melanie Edmonds, author of Starwalker.

By the time the implosion before her has finished, Savannah's cigarette has burnt almost all the way down, forgotten. She blinks at it when the man storms off, sucks down the last dregs of its lung-caressing smoke, then screws it against the concrete under her foot.

She eyes the girl slumped in the street and sighs, flipping candy-coloured hair out of her eyes. "Hey. You all right, kid?"

She hadn't exactly expected Georgia's friend to react that way. Tell her to get lost, mind her own damned business, fuck off, even: those were what she had braced for behind her smile. She's used to that kind of off-hand dismissal. She's used to being tossed aside while regular people carry on with their regular lives.

And let's face it, Georgia's man-friend is a very regular guy. Savannah almost thought he was the kid's father, but after the nature of his accusations, she has thrown away that assumption. She doesn't know what he is - or was - but it's definitely 'none of the above'.

This is a guest entry written by Melanie Edmonds, author of Apocalypse Blog.

Screeching tires announce the arrival of a car, the angle so bad that one of the wheels butts up against the curb, itching to mount it. Inside, a voice lifted in anger batters the insides of the windows, and then escapes when the passenger door is shoved open.

"...think you can try that shit on, you got another think coming, you lousy piece of crap. Christmas was yesterday, asshole." The words fall off the painted lips of the woman who climbs out of the car and into the rain. She stumbles between the gutter and the sidewalk, wrangling coat and bag and tugging her short, faux-leather skirt down. With a huff, she spins on one tall heel so she can use the other foot to slam the door closed, spitting at the driver, "And it's my real hair!"

The hair in question is ash blonde and streaked with candy pink, darkening with rain and tossed over her shoulder as she turns away from the car. Behind her, shouts are throttled inside the vehicle as gears crunch in a furious search for first. However, the man and his car have ceased to exist for her as she fumbles in her bag for her umbrella.

Instead, her gaze runs over the pale streak of a girl standing in the lee of a building nearby.
"You got a light?"

The girl doesn't answer, not even when the umbrella snaps open, a prong whipping out just inches from her cheek. Heels tick on the sidewalk as the new arrival steps closer and holds the handle out towards her. "Hold this for me, will'ya? C'mon, help a girl out."

With the umbrella out of her hands, she huddles under it and struggles into her coat, somehow without dropping her bag. What should be a fluffy fur collar is stuck down with water, but she flicks it up anyway, in case it might catch the drips trying to work their way down the back of her neck. She loops the bag's strap over her shoulder and immediately dips a hand into it to fetch a battered pack of cigarettes.

All the while, her gaze considers this quiet girl holding her umbrella. She'd be unremarkable if she wasn't so pale. She looks washed-out, as if she has been standing in this rain so long all her color has drained away.

"I'm Savannah," the painted lips announce around the butt of a cigarette. She fumbles for the lighter eluding her at the bottom of her bag. "What's your name?"