Sylvie scrambled over the fence, cradling her clothes. Her client’s wife screamed, their dog yapped, but Sylvie had her money.
Back home, she found dog teeth marks on her ankle. “For that, I deserve extra.”
A shadow materialized at her kitchen table, passed her a note with an address. “This one,” it hissed, “pays top dollar.”
“And who’ll ‘discover’ us this time?”
“Does it matter?”
Sylvie shook her head, felt lightheaded. Every crop needed its cultivator, but… “Do you ever feed off me?”
“I prefer gorging on guilt over greed.” Shadow grinned, rubbing its bulging stomach. “But either will do.”
Zena Shapter writes from a castle in a flying city hidden by a thundercloud. Author of ‘Towards White’ (IFWG 2017), her short work has appeared in the Hugo-nominated Sci Phi Journal, Australian Shadows Awarded best of Midnight Echo, and Award-Winning Australian Writing (twice). Find her via social media (@ZenaShapter on Twitter and ZenaShapter on Facebook) and on her website http://zenashapter.com/.