Tag Archives: Anna Austen Leigh
Botticelli’s Venus — Anna Austen Leigh
Sod it. I’m sick of standing here. Don’t I look bloody stupid, balancing on one foot on a see-sawing scallop shell, holding my long blonde hair in front of my pubes just in case one of the Medici gets offended by too much realism? And it’s sodding cold, too. Goddess of love my foot. Goddess [...]
Security — Anna Austen Leigh
He worked in security. That was what they called it, but what it added up to was sitting in a dimly lit box, looking at TV screens all day. Sometimes, he’d have to admit, not looking at them. Whether he looked or not, it was a bore. Except when there was a pretty woman on [...]
Voiceover — Anna Austen Leigh
This is me with X-92. Yes, that is the cargo hold. Yes, I am upside down. In space, any way up is fine. Oh, the video just jumped. That’s G-33. One of the better endowed clones. I don’t suppose they make the G-class that way deliberately, but it sort of goes with the territory. G-class [...]
The Talisman — Anna Austen Leigh
Okay, you are so not going to believe this. And I know I’m drunk. You’d have to be, if you’ve been through what I’ve been through. Yes, I’ve been at the whisky chasers. After the first two I gave up on the beer in between. So call me an unreliable narrator, or an alkie, or [...]
Late for Work — Anna Austen Leigh
I smacked the alarm clock hard into snooze. Just another five minutes, that’s all I wanted, five minutes to drift and dream in the warm half-sleep of early morning. Trying to remember the shreds of a dream that was escaping me already, the night palaces and moonlit landscapes of another world wafting away like fragments [...]
Red Shoes — Anna Austen Leigh
He’s seen her so many times walking past his shop, her pink flip-flops smacking against the soles of her feet in the soft sand drifts that come with the morning wind. (He brushes the sand away from the front of his shop when he opens, but it’s always there again the next morning.) She must [...]
Ghost — Anna Austen Leigh