Maybe find a nice little beach shack somewhere south of here, somewhere less built up. Petersburg, but I’d decided to retire away from it. You know that even if you never cross any of your personal lines-and I had mine-the people you’re working with cross those lines every day, and you’re helping them do it.Įverybody else might retire to St. That was thrilling for a while, too, but it wears on you. Giving the right people just the right gift at just the right time. What they made me was the cleanup lady for people who stood square on the wrong side of heroic. I started fixing things-tough things-for people the day I turned twenty-one, four years after V-J day, and I fancied my talents would make me a superhero. I’d turned forty nearly three years ago, and I admit I liked being the neighborhood spring chicken.īut the thing was: I’d turned forty nearly three years ago. Pete Beach, mostly surrounded by retirees. I lived a couple blocks from the water in St. The ocean breeze keeps summers from being too blistering and winters from being too cold, and there’s nowhere else in the world with sunsets like these. I was a North Florida native, and I loved all of this crazy state, but the Gulf Coast was my particular paradise. It wasn’t that work had dropped off, or gotten much more dangerous. So I’d been thinking of leaving the business. Inhuman Acts is available in print from FurPlanet and DRM-free ebook from Bad Dog Books. This story originally appeared in the anthology Inhuman Acts, a noir-themed anthology from FurPlanet edited by Ocean Tigrox.
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