A Future Song: Uncollected Anthology: Fortune Tales, #9

By Stephanie Writt

A Future Song (Short Story):  Serious golf-ball diver by day. Playful electronic DJ by night. Savior sister whenever her brother calls. This time he needs her to help staff a field trip to the Oregon Coast Aquarium.  Who needs sleep after a long drive? But their playful reunion turns murky at the first song she hears. A whale song. A future song.

“The story [A Future Song]...left me feeling satisfied and touched.”
 – Charles de Lint, Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction

“A Future Song” can also be found in “Storyteller’s Collection: Volume 1 of 10 Stories from Your Favorite Genres.” 

The Uncollected Anthology Series:  Sprung from the minds of seven fabulous authors who love fantasy, short stories, and each other’s writing, the series’ main goal is to bring you quality urban fantasy fiction. Every three months, the authors pick a theme and write a short story for that theme. But instead of bundling the stories together, they each sell their own stories. However, due to reader demand, and the help provided by BundleRabbit, we are now able to bundle all of the stories together in each issue. 

Uncollected Anthology: When you can’t get enough of the stories you love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wayne Press
• Release date: Feb 12, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386373759

Book preview

A Future Song

A Future Song

Uncollected Anthology: Fortune Tales

Stephanie Writt

Wayne Press

Contents

A Future Song

Read and be happy!

Free Story: 1st in Geriatric Magic’s: The New York Collection

Geriatric Magic

Want to read more in this series?

Preview: Love & Jinx

Part One

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Love & Jinx: Want to finish reading?

Also by Stephanie Writt

About the Author

A Future Song

Uncollected Anthology: Bewitching Love (Issue #9)

With a slow steady beat, he strode toward me like a hipster Adonis. Perfectly coifed, vintage tie and vest, barbell waxed mustache hovering over a fully styled beard. Handmade shorts hit right below the knee from brown slacks he probably scrounged from a thrift store. His gaze steely blue, with a twinkle in each corner.

And a middle school hell-mob followed after him.

God, my brother was such a dork.

I rattled my Tootsie Roll Pop (cherry, like my hair, and just tasted the best) around in my teeth as I watched him lead his parade of tween chaos to the front door of the Oregon Coast Aquarium. All dappled light through the prehistoric-esque foliage that lined the walkway from parking lot to entrance. Called by the promise of mystery and wonder held beyond those doors. Hear the song of the Humpback whale. Our newest exhibit will awe and inspire you with its majestic beauty.

He arranged the pink- and blue-hued crowd to line up against the low concrete wall that drew the line between wilds and human space, and turned to me. With a proud smile. Smirk. But more condescending. Well, snarky. That was it. Snarky.

He had gotten me to drive three hours on two hours of sleep to meet him here. Last minute. Even told me the aquarium opened a half hour before it did. Turd thought I’d be late. So, I’ve been sitting here sucking on a lollipop, trying to keep my ass from going numb, waiting for him for forty-five minutes. Grrrr.

I shouldn’t have answered my phone at the club between sets last night.

Silly, silly me.

I needed a shower. I still smelled like smoke machine and gummy worms. Adrenaline and sweat. Still wore the same My Little Pony baby-t and contrasting black leather mini skirt, with cotton-candy orange tights. Purple leg warmers and black high-top Converse. And it all clashed nicely with the floral explosion of tattoos on my arms and peeking out of the top of my tee. Needless to say, once they saw me, I was all the kids could giggle about. Oh, and apparently point at.

This was going to be fun.

Ooo! One of the girls threw me a thumbs up and a wave. We were wearing the same t-shirt. A Pegasister. Well done. I threw her my own thumbs up and a wink, then shifted off the metal-glazed boulder-sculpture that had cooled my rump for the past forty-five minutes and stood to meet my brother.

He gave me a once-over with a raised brow. It annoyed me I still couldn’t do that in return. Years of his taunting with no ability to retaliate. So I waved my Tootsie Pop at him.

Don’t start Mr. You-Have-To-Save-Me-I’m-Desperate. Last minute ass saving here, and you get what you get. I hopped the Pop back into my face before one of the morning dew gnats that hovered around in scattered moving clumps landed on the end of my sweet.

Can you watch the potty mouth for two hours? Then I might forgive the outfit. He said it with a smile, so I knew he liked my clothes. He liked to call me his Rainbow Bright girl. All color and magic. He was still being a pompous jerk, though. So I couldn’t help yanking his chain.

Literally and figuratively.

I grabbed the chain from pant cuff to pocket and yanked, hard, pulling him toward me which upset his particularly satisfied look. In a high little girl whisper I said, I’m so sorry Gare-bear. I will be on my very best behavior. I gave him a giant innocent smile. He glared back at me.

Oh, no. Fake distress. Not the Gare-Bear stare!

His eyes squinted.

I bet your students know all about the Gare-bear stare.

No reaction.

I guess I’ll go ask them. I dropped the chain and darted around him, a big greeting smile on my face and a wave in my hand. Hey guys, I ha—ugh.

My breath was forced out of my gut by a burly arm around my waist that summarily lifted and swung me around to face a direction not at the kids. Opposite in fact. I grinned at the leafy trees and brick walkway as I fake struggled and Garett waved his free hand at the kids with a comical, nothing to see here. They upped their giggles to a full laugh that ran through most of the group as he dragged me away and back to my metal rock perch.

Seriously? He asked after he plopped me down. "Do you possess the ability to express yourself in way that is not in an entirely childish fashion? Big sister?" Emphasis on the big.

"Well, little brother, emphasis on the little, I said as I solidified my seat on the rock with crossed legs (more at the thighs since, you know, mini-skirt), a straight back and serious cherry suck, you are a self-involved turd-nose, stuck in the past." I flicked his thick