“Oui.”

“Merde.”

~*~*~*~*~*

The shimmering mass of color slithered across the morning sky, less
visible in the rose-colored sunrise driving back the night sky. It
moved like a living thing, its colors shifting like a pulse. It seemed
to gather momentum like an ocean wave, then flowed forward, gathered
again and flowed.

Out of the colors, a low-toned hum resonated against buildings and
houses below, where life was beginning to stir. Cats arched their backs
and raised their fur against an unseen threat. Dogs, feeling an
unpleasant buzz in their skulls, whined, shook their heads, and rubbed
their muzzles with anxious front paws.

The chorus of early morning birdsong died in tiny throats. Feathered
masses lifted off tree and wire, taking flight in erratic hurried
patterns, away. Away from this place. Away from the stirring of
something in the air.

~*~*~*~*~*

Ivan was cooking Kit a wonderful breakfast, eggs, bacon, toast, waffles
and fresh picked strawberries. He found the fresh whipped cream, when
he heard the front door closing, and he put the plate down and went off
to the front door.

He was privy to Kit driving away in her car, leaving a faint tire track on the pavement on front of the house.

“What the hell is going on with everyone?” He asked the empty house.

~*~*~*~*~*

Doyle was sitting quietly at Susan’s desk, design plans spread out
before her. Susan stopped at the door of the office where she’d gone to
get the books. She stood in the doorway and simply absorbed the
alluring sight. Head down, blonde hair falling softly around her creamy
face, Doyle’s long lashes were dark against her skin, fluttering gently
as she looked over a drawing of the new suite of private rooms.

There was something still almost child-like in her face, offset by the
gentle swell of breasts pushing against the fabric of her silk shirt.
She raised her head slowly, and Susan smiled at that natural arc of
brow above haunting green eyes that fairly invited seduction.

“Good morning, Doyle,” Susan said softly as she stepped inside, setting
her Starbucks coffee on the file cabinet, “how nice of you to drop by.”
The books could wait.

~*~*~*~*~*

Tina paced the house, waiting for Shane. Shane who’d left her, run out
scared and not herself. It was 10am the next day, and no Shane. She
shivered at the thought of what could happen. When the door clicked
open, Shane walked in slowly. Her head hung low, her straggly hair in
her eyes.