Style

Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 05-03-2013

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“O, Reviled One, I’ve called you here to make a deal: whatever you usually take for 80 awesome years added onto the 14 I’ve already lived (that’d put me at … 94 … which is super old, but kind of cool). I want whatever I want, starting with froggin’ wads of cash and some cool friends … uh … I guess that translates into ‘all of the material things I ask for and  the people I choose to share them with’.  Yeah.  Let’s keep it simple.” “I do not usually deal with ones so young; I am intrigued,” came the voice. “Well, I don’t want to be old and still scraping by, totally effed because I’ve spent my whole life freaked out about karma.” A dry, dark chuckle came from the corner of the room. “And the others?” “Like I said, I’ll share with some,” Sophia said softly, after a pause. “The rest?  Screw ‘em.” “I like your style, Kid,” the Devil replied, materializing.

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