BOOK 3 of the ORPHIC Series
CHURLISH
/ˈCHərliSH/
marked by a lack of civility.
~~~~~
Lucille 'Lucy' Opal Baker finds herself in the 21 century sporting the title of Aunt while lugging along h...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"We see the same moon, you and I."
Brooklyn, New York December, 2016
CHRISTMAS CAME SOONER THAN both James and Lucy expected. They weren't underprepared–not really. But according to their therapist, Dr. Raynor, it was depressingly sad that the only piece of furniture they owned was a christmas tree. It wasn't their fault they were busy with decorating their home with actually useful things, like alarm systems and hidden weapon compartments.
Besides, they may have been pushing it off simply because there were far too many options to choose from. And they may have been a little paranoid with the fact they'd be wasting money on a bed, only to use that same mattress to fend off bullets.
Okay, so, yes, they weren't exactly buying much of anything after their experience in Bucharest.
They'd almost lost everything, ranging from James's journals to a few of Lucy's dog tags and the hat Peggy had given her. It was difficult to unpack, much less settle in a building that could possibly explode. So they kept their backpacks in the living room, sleeping side by side on the floor with a pile of blankets, not that either of them liked to be tangled up in them.
It was a learning process, Lucy liked to think to herself.
Dr. Raynor had never seen their home, and they were a bit adamant about that particular fact. Still, Lucy wondered if they should probably head to IKEA at some point.
She sighed as Alpine played with the lowest ornament hanging from the tree. She pawed at it, although she was being careful. Lucy watched James as he hung the last of the lights, pinning a star at the top. He climbed off the ladder they'd found in the closet, turning to look at her with a roll of his eyes. She grinned up at him, a cup of hot chocolate pressed to her lips.
He padded over towards her and he settled onto the couch, his hand wrapping around her mug. She let him take it, allowing him a small sip before leaning forwards and taking the warm cup back.
"I see how it is." He huffed, though his voice was filled with amusement. "Remind you of better times?"
He asked, pointing at the cup she held.
Lucy hummed softly.
"Yeah. I mean, well, it's better than a hotdog." She said.
James stared at her for a second, before chuckling.
"You mean the synthetic one you pulled out of thin air?" He asked. "Can you still do that?"
Lucy smiled at him, holding a hand out. A mug materialized in her palm, hot chocolate swishing within. She gave the glass to him, and James shook his head as a soft smoke swirled upwards.
