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Start the Clock [MultiFormat]
eBook by Benjamin Rosenbaum
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$0.75 |
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$0.64 |
eBook Category: Science Fiction
eBook Description: Susie's middle-class Pack of age-arrested Nines is disintegrating--but maybe a move to an upscale playhouse paradise in the Pirateland suburb will help? This galleon has everything--water cannons, trampolines, ropeswings and artificial parrots. But can they convince Abby? A tale of friendship, found family, love and real estate, thirty years after we all stop aging.
eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, 2004
Fictionwise Release Date: March 2005
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Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [34 KB]
, ePub (EPUB) [37 KB]
, Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [19 KB]
, Portable Document Format (PDF) [227 KB]
, Palm Doc (PDB) [20 KB]
, Microsoft Reader (LIT) [80 KB]
, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [92 KB]
, hiebook (KML) [105 KB]
, Sony Reader (LRF) [44 KB]
, iSilo (PDB) [17 KB]
, Mobipocket (PRC) [22 KB]
, Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [50 KB]
, OEBFF Format (IMP) [31 KB]
Words: 5937
Reading time: 16-23 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Portable Document Format (PDF) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
 
"Rosenbaum continues to impress with his fiction ... a v-e-r-y strong, assured piece."--Mark Watson, BestSF.net
The real estate agent for Pirateland was old. Nasty old. It's harder to tell with Geezers, but she looked to be somewhere in her Thirties. They don't have our suppleness of skin, but with the right oils and powders they can avoid most of the wrinkles. This one hadn't taken much care. There were furrows around her eyes and eyebrows.
She had that Mommystyle thing going on: blue housedress, frilly apron, Betty Crocker white gloves. If you're going to be running around this part of Montana sporting those gigantic, wobbly breasts and hips, I guess it's a necessary form of obeisance.
She said something to someone in the back of her van, then hurried up the walk toward us. "It's a lovely place," she called. "And a very nice area."
"Look, Suze, it's your mom," Tommy whispered in my ear. His breath tickled. I pushed him.
It was deluxe, I'll give her that. We were standing under the fifty-foot prow of the galleon we'd come to see. All around us a flotilla of men-of-war, sloops, frigates, and cutters rode the manicured lawns and steel-gray streets. Most of the properties were closed up, the lawns pristine. Only a few looked inhabited--lawns bestrewn with gadgets, excavations begun with small bulldozers and abandoned, Pack or Swarm or Family flags flying from the mainmasts. Water cannons menacing passerby.
I put my hands in my pants pockets and picked at the lint. "So this is pretty much all Nines?"
The Thirtysomething Lady frowned. "Ma'am, I'm afraid the Anti-Redlining Act of 2035--"
"Uh-huh, race, gender, aetial age, chronological age, stimulative preference or national origin--I know the law. But who else wants to live in Pirateland, right?"
Thirtysomething Lady opened her mouth and didn't say anything.
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