A foxy tale: Episode 10

A collaborative serial by Catherin J Pascal Dunk and Jessica Perini

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Episode 10

Solomon Fishner … erstwhile druglord, eccentric and hedonist … and a prior classmate of de Bras at business school. 

Now there was a blast from the past, de Bras thought to himself, as a freak gust of wind forced what Brandon suspected was some of [cough] Sol up his nose.

But Javier Belarte … how did he fit into all of this? Hadn’t he been Solomon’s housemates?

Come to think of it, Solomon was old money. The kind that had zero need for sharehouse economy.

Heterocentric as he was, Brandon had immediately clocked Javier as gay. And yet, it took him more than a few additional moments to make the leap. 

Might Sol and Javier have actually been … lovers?

And even if that were so, why, prie Dieu! would Javier conceivably be carrying around Sol’s ashes in a beanie baby, mixed with cocaine?!

*

Marguerite wakes in her Queen-size bed, deee–agonally spread across the entire silk-lined plane. Her head throbs; her throat is parched. How did she get here? And what on earth has happened, between her fade to black and her consciousness rising here, now?

Her investigative brain isn’t quite pinging on all cylinders yet, but it’s certainly pinging.

Wait, that’s the brain chip. Sister Celeste must be trying to jack in. Ugh! Let her goddamn wait.

Then the memories come. Piecemeal at first. Then all of a flurry, flooding her befuddled neurons with jarring colour and light. That garish beanie baby. And Brandon’s steady arm …

Surely they hadn’t … had they? done the Deed? Quelle horreur, if they had. Yet also … not?

… TO BE CONTINUED …

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