I am Gideon: Chapter #11
Walking out into that room was like swimming into the sea of no return. I stopped at the first table I came to and smiled as best I could through my chattering teeth. “What would you like to eat?” I asked.
I am Gideon: Chapter #10
I got a good, hot meal that evening, plenty of scraps off the plates, and a blanket for the mattress on the floor. I’d put in a hard day’s work, to be sure, but I still had a job, and what’s more, I felt like I’d earned a bit of respect, and that was worth more than anything.
I am Gideon: Chapter #9
“Gideon,” I said. “Gideon…Ing.”
“What makes you think I’ve got work?” the man asked. He was tall, slightly stooped and skinny as a wire. He looked like his hide had been stripped off, nailed to a shed for a few years and then draped back over him in a casual sort of way.
“A man at the soup kitchen said he’d just quit,” I said. “So… I thought I’d ask.”
I am Gideon: Chapter #8
Desperate though I was, I had sense enough to realize that a boy with only one set of clothes was going to be noticed. I worked on a back story. I was a student doing research for a school project on ancient modes of transport. Might work if they didn’t ask me which school I went to. I watched the museum that day. I saw when the person who worked at the entrance went on her break and to lunch. Someone who exited but never entered would be pretty obvious. It gave me a window where I could slip out and go look for work.
I am Gideon: Chapter #7
The Museum of Transportation had several good things going for it. It had plenty of foot traffic, it was casually managed, minimally guarded, dimly lit, overly cluttered, and the last hour it was free to get in, and that’s when a lot of people went. I got there with twenty minutes to spare. I waited until several people were going in and coming out at the same time, and I sauntered in, trying to look like the visitor I wasn’t planning to be…
I am Gideon: Chapter #6
When I walked in the door, my mother didn’t know me. She thought I was a client. “It’s me,” I said. “Gideon.” I realized I was looking down, not up into her face. I will remember her expression and our conversation, to my dying day. There was a pause. “Oh. OK,” Another pause. “You’re not here to ….me?” She used a word we don’t use in our family.
About Author
Showandah Terrill is a scifi/fantasy author from Forks, WA.Learn more than you ever wanted to know about her here.