Quick-Tempered, Moody, and Taste Like an Ashtray

 

Sarah smokes, and Amir knows she 'tastes like an ashtray' through invasive surveillance techniques. Read Time: A Wayfarers Story

To assure herself of her desirability outside of the superlatives of one man’s description, she uttered “I’m blond-haired, blue-eyed, and small-boned. I’m pretty, and I’m physically fit from being a runner. I’m smart and witty, and I’m very loving. I’ve been told that I’m sexy. I’m a good singer, too!”

After snapping another drag, she continued her self-interview with “why can’t I find a good guy to love me? Well, I know of one and I’ve been dreaming about him for years, but I guess it’s too late now, being the End Times and all.”

“It’s not the End Times, it’s the Reconstruction” came the answer through the speaker in a quad-copter drone that lowered to a spot five feet in front of her, causing her to stop on a dime in sudden, shocked surprise. Its digitized androgynous voice wasn’t finished, and critiqued “you can’t find a partner because you’re quick-tempered, moody, and taste like an ashtray. And you act like you’re menstrual every day of the month.”

“Lord Jesus, please help me” Sarah gasped as the drone was then accompanied by two others and formed a row above the towpath.

The drone on her left answered in the same voice as the first, only spiced with a London accent. Its reply was itself a question, asking “is that the old, dead Jesus or the new Greater He that you’re referring to, cutie?”

“There’s only one Jesus, and He died, rose from the dead, and sits at the right hand of the Father” she snapped back.

Who is the operator of the drones? Will his obsession with Sarah lead to a bad end? To find out, get Time: A Wayfarers Story in Kindle and print on Amazon 

Location: Chittenango, NY 13037, USA

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