Description
Tales the Moon Told Me – Alyx Jae Shaw
Join Alyx Jae Shaw and her motley crew of characters as she draws open the curtains, giving readers a glimpse into the scenes of various lives and loves — read as they venture through tumultuous romances, titillating scenarios, and lovely poems.
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EXCERPT:
Seth sighed as he slowed for a red light and felt that oh-so-telling shudder that meant the car was stalling again. Just one more problem in a long litany of troubles, all of which could be spelled M-O-N-E-Y. Beside him, his sister Jenny laughed and clapped her hands. He gave her a weary grin.
“Well, at least someone is amused,” he muttered.
She laughed again, and he smiled, then heaved a sigh of relief as the sickly vehicle coughed into life, this time before he received the official city car horn salute. The light turned green, and they started forward.
“We’re almost to the park,” he said.
Jenny stared forward, saying nothing. That was another concern, the way she had ceased to speak more than the occasional word since their parents had died. But he was determined that today he and Jenny were going to have a nice afternoon. No worrying about the lack of funds, no fretting about her disability, just a nice day outside. He wasn’t even going to worry about the way she would periodically yell… “Azwo!”
… that.
“Jenny, what is an azwo?”
“Azwo!”
“Yes, but what is it?”
“Azwo!” She bounced in her seat and clapped her hands.
Seth shrugged. “Well, whatever it is, you seen darn happy about it.”
“Azwo,” she repeated and laughed.
Seth rolled his eyes. “Fine, ‘azwo’ to you, too.”
He pulled into the small parking lot and ground his teeth when he saw two of the three handicapped spaces were taken up by an SUV full of teenagers. He growled, fighting an urge to get out of his car with a baseball bat and start smashing heads. The attitudes and excuses he had encountered over the years gave him a rabid hate of people who used handicap parking spots without regard for those who needed them, and he had heard every excuse in the book, from “I was just going to be here a second” to “well, just how many handicapped people are supposed to be out today anyway?”
What, was there a rule he didn’t know about? Were there days when persons with disabilities were supposed to stay home and put their lives on hold so soccer moms, who thought their crap smelled like roses, could use up spaces they weren’t entitled to so they wouldn’t have to jar the heels of their Italian leather shoes walking across the fucking parking lot?
“Calm down, Seth,” he said to himself. “Just breathe, this is supposed to be a nice day, nice family outing, you and Jenny at the park to watch the birdies and smell the flowers. Don’t let them bother you…”
He parked in the third space and opened the door. He walked around to the back of the over-worked van and opened the hatch to pull out the wheelchair. One of the teenagers raised his head, some little reverse-Oreo gangsta wanna-be who would probably piss himself in terror and submission if the real thing so much as sneezed in his general direction.
“Yo dog, not so close to the ride.”
Seth paused and slowly swung his head to look at the scrawny little bent-neck ass wipe in his shit-catcher pants and fake ‘bling,’ He ground his teeth with the sort of rage that can only come of a very long, hard week, too much stress, and the final straw. His eye twitched.
“How about your move your piece of shit car so I don’t cram this wheelchair up your ass, rip your head off, and fuck the bleeding stump?”
The teenager was taken aback. “Harsh, man.”
“Push me, Vanilla Ice. I fucking dare you.”
“Yo, you are one cold dude.”
“Then stay out of my parking spot.”
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