8/11/17

Fish Food

“I finally heard back from Mal today, he says the circus will be back in Deadwater next month. His psychic is more than willing to open up a channel to Evelyn.” I sipped coffee and watched August over the rim of the cup.

“I changed my mind about that. I don’t want to talk to her.” He drummed his fingers on the table, they made only the sparest whisper of a beat. I slid his card over to him, the Father of Swords reversed. He huffed. “I’m not even alive, how am I supposed to be analytical? My brain was fish food a century ago.”

“Fair point.” I sipped more coffee.

“I thought you’d be upset.” He raised an eyebrow at me. I always find it curious that his hair turned seaweed green when he died, but his eyebrows stayed brown.

“This is really good coffee. Not even you can ruin it.” He didn’t try either. Maybe in his own way, August is maturing… or he found a small animal to torture instead of me today.