100 Words A Day by Hydrargentium

Well, at least 100 words — best served random….

Tag: Larry

“Do you smell smoke?”

Mason sniffed experimentally, his large nostrils flaring above his moustache.

“No. You?”

Arrow rubbed his chin, drew a long breath of the evening sky through his nose, holding it like a fine wine.

“I think so. Hard to tell from where, though.”

“Hmm.” Mason pulled a cellphone from its holster on his belt. “Let me make a phone call.”

Arrow floated a little higher into the wind, trying to get a feel for the currents, to see if the smell got stronger or weaker. After about thirty seconds, he heard Mason finish his call.


“Called a fireman buddy of mine. Says there are no calls in tonight.”

“Weird. Must just be someone’s chimney or something.”

Arrow watched as Mason put the phone back in its pouch. It was the only thing Mason seemed to carry, attached behind his back, on the left side, closer to his hip than his spine.

“Is that some kind of hardened device? Did Larry put it together for you?”

“What, this?” Mason pulled out the phone again. It looked normal enough. “Nah, it’s just a Samsung something-or-other.”

With a flick of the wrist, Mason tossed his phone up to Arrow. Without really thinking about it, Arrow caught it, only realizing after that it ended up right where it would be easiest to catch, in exactly the right position for his hand to grab it.

He looked at it, turning it over in his hand. It had a simple plastic cover on it, and a film of screen protector that held tiny air bubbles in one corner. Still looked normal.

“How do you keep it from getting wrecked? I’ve seen you take some pretty big hits.”

Mason smiled a lop-sided grin.

“Easy. I don’t let it get hit.”


The intro to¬†Welcome to the Jungle filled the sky, breaking Arrow’s reverie. Reaching for his hip, he yanked his phone out of its holster, nearly fumbling it into the big blue yonder in his haste.

“This is Arrow.”

“Arrow. Where the hell are you?”

“Larry? Hey, geez. I don’t know. Somewhere over Kansas?” Arrow searched the horizon, looking for anything other than flat land full of wheat fields.

The voice on the other end grunted. “Whaddaya mean, you don’t know where you are?”

Arrow shrugged, exasperation clear in his voice. “What am I, Map Man? You tell me. You can read the GPS from this thing.”

“Nah, I’m just messin’ with you.” The sound of crinkling junk food packaging could be heard in the background. “You’re about two hours out of Kansas City. Just keep on in the direction you’re headed, and I’ll give you a call when you get close.”

Meyvn tapped his earlobe, activating his implant.

“Larry, I’m getting my ass kicked out here. You gotta help me out!”

The voice on the other end was low and languid.

“Whaddaya want me to do about it, Meyvn? You’re playing soccer against a bunch of 12-year-old girls.”

“Send in reinforcements. I don’t know.” Meyvn squinted in the bright sun, watching the other team scramble for their water bottles. The five minute break gave him time to catch his breath and find his seventh wind, but it also gave the girls a chance to recharge.

Larry scoffed. “Reinforcements? Use your powers.”

“I can’t. I promised them I wouldn’t.”

“Your problem, not mine. Again I ask, whaddaya want me to do about it?”