Space Cops

Space Cops is featured on Bish's Beat today. My short story, "To Walk Among Dreams," was featured in this anthology.

http://bishsbeat.blogspot.com/2010/10/pulp-now-space-cops.html


Excerpt from "To Walk Among Dreams" in Space Cops (c) 2009

The turning of pages was the only sound that embraced the soundproof room. I looked around, taking in the light blue ceiling and stark white walls. A small camera was perched above the door, the shining red light indicating that this session was being filmed. The brightness of the florescent lights mixed with the color of the walls was starting to make my head hurt. I took a drag of my cigarette as I waited.

"Tell me why you think you're here."

The woman who spoke crossed her legs, her hands running over her thighs to make sure that her skirt hung right. Her blonde hair was in a long braid down her back with little wispy bangs covering her forehead. It was a flattering look for her. Her skirt was black with little purple flowers on it, the same shade of purple as her blouse. Her black pumps were more elegant that business-like, telling me that she was a woman of wealth. Her hand covered mine, a comforting gesture. I recoiled as though her touch burned. I refused to meet her eyes. I knew all that I needed to know for now. She was new. She had that fresh, just out of grad school feel to her. She was treating me like any other patient.

"Did they explain to you who I am?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Then there is no need for introductions. Did they explain why I was here?"

"Your file states that you suffer from delusions. You wish to make the world a better place..."

"So I have an imaginary world where I dish out justice," I finished for her. "Go get Dr. Cornwell. I don't have time for this."

She smoothed out her skirt - a nervous gesture - and took a deep breath. "The beginning?"

I sighed and leaned back in my chair, tapping my cigarette on a triangluar red ashtray. I raised my eyes up until they met hers; beautiful cerulean blue with flecks of green and gray. Her eyes gave her away. I could read her so easily that it scared me. She stared back into my eyes through my curtain for curly red hair.

I lowered my gaze and asked, "Has anyone ever told you that your eyes are the windows to your soul?"

I didn't want to talk about me. I needed to know about her. After all, I had my orders.

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