This is the opening scene of a story I’m shopping around, “Doña Ana Lucía Serrano y la Caja de Venuswood (Doña Ana Lucía Serrano and the Venuswood Box).” Next time someone asks “what is solarpunk?” I’m showing them this, because these dozen paragraphs are pure, distilled solarpulp.
“I wonder what they hold over you, Doña Ana Lucía.” Said Anni Talavalakar. “Did you ‘retrieve’ a relic from your own museum? Seduce a Senator’s lover? I like to think you killed a man, it’s the romantic in me.”
“It is a little of all three.” Doña Ana Lucía smiled — a feral smile on her imperious, cultivated features.
The two Syndicate goons juddered her a little.
“And you still won’t tell me where my venuswood box is…? A pity.” Anni looked up, out toward her stars, gears ticking beneath her silver streak. “But since you have done me the honor of revealing your unspoken truth, I can freely give you this…with your consent.”
“F-freely given.” Confirmed the stunned archaeologist.
She leaned up, and pressed naked lip to blood-red. Her mouth was rich and full, with the confidence of age and the playfulness of youth. Anni even marked the end with a little flick of her tongue that hit Doña Ana Lucía like the sting at the end of a melody.
Anni lingered there, her dark hand caressing Doña Ana Lucía’s morena cheek, her gaze taking in as much of the archaeologist as she could. The Syndicate goons filling the train car looked on respectfully, without a sound.
Finally, Anni drew back and took a deep, regret-filled sigh.
“Toss her.”
The taste of her goodbye kiss lingered on Doña Ana Lucía’s lips as they threw her over the drumhead.
She knew the fall was not far: two meters, if that. But it went on forever, long enough that Ana Lucía could see the stars overhead all wink out in the harsh, cold light of day before she hit the ground.
Recent Comments