Defective (20 page)

Read Defective Online

Authors: Sharon Boddy

Tags: #post apocalyptic, #survival, #dark age

The children
returned to the orchard to live with their father and aunt but came
back to the farm several times a year. At planting and harvest
times they would move back into the barn for weeks at a time.
Narrow devised a rope and pulley system from the base of Spoon
Valley to the edge of the farm so that Jelly could easily transport
plants or tools up or down.

As Titania had
plunged the glass into the Landlord Mixer had felt himself being
pulled back into his own body. He awoke and turned his blue eyes to
his sister. In time, Mixer became as loving a little boy as Santa
always knew he could be. He started walking on his own and lost
much of the baby fat he’d had. His rear end was still large but it
no longer threatened to topple him over. He spoke, the halting,
hopeful speech of any other three-year-old. The rest of his family
came to love him. Santa sang to him each night at bedtime.

"Night, night
Mixer," she said at the end of the song. She tucked him in.

"Night, night
Santa." Mixer yawned and was soon asleep. He dreamed that he was
hungry.

###

About the
Author

Sharon Boddy lives in
Ottawa, Canada where she makes a living as a professional writer
and editor, specializing in environmental issues. When she isn't
doing that, she can often be seen cackling over vats of soup or
enticing things to grow from crummy soil.

Connect with her
at
http://sharonboddy.wordpress.com
or read more of her fiction at Oddz 'N Sodz (
http://oddznsodz.blogspot.ca/).

Acknowledgements

Thanks to all the
folks who read a draft or drafts of this novella. Acronyms and
nicknames have been used to protect the innocent: MEOW, the FC, my
seesters, a few others who are quite shy and would prefer to go
nameless, and of course the hubster, the only one to have read an
early fifty-page draft that had a host of other characters and a
whole other plot line. A special shout out to Lizard who was often
forced to listen to me kvetch and gnash my teeth whenever I got
stuck. Lastly, thank you to whoever dropped or lost his belt on
Cavan Street. This story wouldn't exist if hadn't been for that bit
of leather on the road.

If you enjoyed
this book, please leave a review at your favourite retailer.

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