The Ragged Edges of Torn Photographs

The fat woman behind the counter of the corner liquor store reflected on her life as the artificial sun began to dim outside. For twenty years she had run this corner store. Anything you could get on Earth, and a few things you couldn't, all at a reasonable price.

The metal bell over the door rang as someone pushed their way in. A refined man, nattily attired in a grey suit cleared his throat and asked for a bottle of Rigellian Kiral, 2162. She passed it to him and bagged it without even looking at him and took his money with her other hand, sliding it into the register with the rest. The door clinked again as the man walked out.

She lit a cigarette. Bad habit, but she figured, running a liquor store, she was already condemned. In for a penny, in for a pound. The tip glowed as she took a long drag, the smoke filling her lungs and her head went not unpleasantly light.

She let her mind drift. Another couple hours, long enough for the party people to maybe stop by and pick up some extra money before she retired to her apartment upstairs for the night.

The doorbell clinked again. But the man who approached the counter said nothing. He was even better dressed than the man before, attired in a suit so white it seemed to shine among the urban grit that characterized her little corner of Kuran Colony.

His green eyes shone despite being shadowed by long chestnut bangs. His hair trailed lazily behind him like a devil's tail.

"Hello Lil," was all he said. His voice was smooth, seductive, despite the roughness at the bottom. He opened his jacket and produced his own pack of cigarettes, extracting one of his own. He lit it with a very practiced motion and looked at her.

Her face was a mask of shock. "Kienan . . ."

* * *

Kienan Ademetria had met Jayla Kyren almost by accident. The man he had been trailing that night was attending a party for a noted artist who had been touring the Outer Colonies with his work. He watched his mark from across the room.

"Excuse me," a young attractive blond woman said, moving elegantly past him, her languid figure looking like a shadow in her tight black party dress. She looked away from him, preparing to move on, then she stopped, regarding him curiously.

"Nice hair," she said, gesturing to his braid.

"Thank you," Kienan said quietly.

"I don't think I've seen you here before," she said, her eyes looking over his face for any glimmer of recognition.

"No," Kienan said, discreetly looking past her. "This is my first time. But if I had been, I certainly would have remembered you, Mrs--?"

"Ms." Jayla corrected. "Jayla Kyren."

Kienan took her hand and kissed it. His eyes stayed locked on his mark. His conversation was ending and he seemed to be moving toward an exit. "Kienan Ademetria. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Ademetria," Jayla said. "No, I've never heard the name. And I've been at enough of these to know everyone." She looked over at someone on the other side of the room who was trying to gain her attention. She looked from Kienan back to them and frowned.

"Look," she said, disappointment clouding her face. "I'm sorry, but my friends over there seem to wanna spend some time with me." She reached into her purse and pulled out a small thin card. "But give me a call some time, huh? You've gotta tell me how you keep all that hair so clean." She gave him one last, bright smile from over her shoulder as she turned to leave.