This is part one of three writing prompts, and an homage to author Ian Tregillis's latest novel Something More Than Night.
We stood at the crossroads of interplanetary dissonance and quadrilateral harmony. It was nice there. Despite the nomenclature, interplanetary dissonance can sound quite beautiful at times. But Gabriel wasn’t there for the ambiance. He was all business, though his feathers beat in time to the pulsing of the nearest quasar.
“Thuriel, what have you to report?”
“The outer reaches of mortal trimaterial thought processes are secure. There will be no breech from there, Sir.”
“What of the motes of carbon between the toes of the Precambrian era?”
“Tight as a cheerleader’s sweater.”
Gabriel raised an angelic eyebrow at me. “You’ve been spending way too much time on the mortal plane.” He shook his head and somewhere a newborn nebula was blown back into disparate particles. “But this is no time for jests. The demons are poised and ready to strike and we must bar them from objective reality in any way that we can.”
We stood at the crossroads of interplanetary dissonance and quadrilateral harmony. It was nice there. Despite the nomenclature, interplanetary dissonance can sound quite beautiful at times. But Gabriel wasn’t there for the ambiance. He was all business, though his feathers beat in time to the pulsing of the nearest quasar.
“Thuriel, what have you to report?”
“The outer reaches of mortal trimaterial thought processes are secure. There will be no breech from there, Sir.”
“What of the motes of carbon between the toes of the Precambrian era?”
“Tight as a cheerleader’s sweater.”
Gabriel raised an angelic eyebrow at me. “You’ve been spending way too much time on the mortal plane.” He shook his head and somewhere a newborn nebula was blown back into disparate particles. “But this is no time for jests. The demons are poised and ready to strike and we must bar them from objective reality in any way that we can.”
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