Getting a future from the Mexican, now there was a thing.

In the Past, the Kid had requested a few from him only to learn the hard way that the price of entry to the game was seldom what it seemed and to be careful what he wished from the unpredictable, part time provider of miracles — too much heartbreak leaves a hole in your hope.

In the shuffling of dreams, it paid to pay attention to the pack the Mexican proffered — he’d slip you a variety of tarot decks instead of ordinary playing cards, if you weren’t careful … some of which had seemed oddly alive in the corner of his eye … and, as a result, the Mexican was a port of last resort in any storm.

But needs must when the Devil drives — the Mexican’s beneficences were as mercurial as the man himself, but there were things only he could dream, so, sometimes, he was the only port … right at the heart of the storm.

The Mexican had given him a night.

He’d been expecting to have to haggle his way to half a night, or even as low as three hours, and be grateful for it. Didn’t sound much, but a he could do a lot with even only three; three hours could be the beginning of a lifetime … a night could last one … and the Kid had some moves he figured might make it do just that, if he danced faster than he’d ever danced before … faster than any ‘floor … and turned the hours into a night with a future — to the right music he’d dance it into an eternity twinkling with improbable possibilities for the plucking by those who dare dream of finding impossible probabilities beyond the oceanic stars.

Dame Fortune … the Mexican her agent … had smiled upon him and he was about to play his own hand whilst dancing around the table … spinning the night to a standstill about it … centre-ring … so high the eye strains to make him out in the spotlights twinkling around him, like fireflies in the dark … a trick of cards that would leave the tent in uproar.

It was going to be a long night.


For one night only … his life would be forever changed.



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Where Angels Fear

Where Angels Fear


There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live and too rare to die.