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Flat Diane [MultiFormat]
eBook by Daniel Abraham
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eBook Category: Fantasy/Science Fiction Nebula Award(R) Finalist
eBook Description: A contemporary fantasy story with a dark streak running through it, dark enough that sensitive readers should be forewarned this story contains adult themes and edgy material. This Nebula Award Preliminary Ballot Nominee was originally published in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction Oct/Nov 2004, available at Fictionwise.
eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, 2004
Fictionwise Release Date: January 2006
508 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [44 KB]
, ePub (EPUB) [45 KB]
, Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [29 KB]
, Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [281 KB]
, Palm Doc (PDB) [32 KB]
, Microsoft Reader (LIT) [86 KB]
, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [101 KB]
, hiebook (KML) [130 KB]
, Sony Reader (LRF) [55 KB]
, iSilo (PDB) [26 KB]
, Mobipocket (PRC) [33 KB]
, Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [61 KB]
, OEBFF Format (IMP) [46 KB]
Words: 9789
Reading time: 27-39 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
 
His hands didn't tremble as he traced his daughter. She lay on the kitchen floor, pressing her back against the long, wide, white paper he'd brought, her small movements translated into soft scratching sounds where the cut end tried to curl down into the floor. His pen moved along the horizons of her body--here, where her wrist widened, and then each finger; down her side; rounding the ball of her feet like the passage around the Cape of Good Hope; up to where her wide shorts made it clear this wasn't a work of pornography; then back down the other leg and around. When he came to her spilling hair, he traced its silhouette rather than remain strictly against her skin. He wanted it to look like her, and Diane had thick, curly, gorgeous hair just like her mother had.
"Just almost done, sweetie," he said when she started to shift and fidget. She quieted until the pen tip touched the point where it had started, the circle closed. As he sat back, she jumped up to see. The shape was imperfect--the legs ended in awkward thalidomide bulbs, the hair obscured the long oval face, the lines of the tile were clear where the pen had jumped.
Still.
"Okay," Ian said. "Now let's just put this on here, and then...."
"I want to write it," Diane said.
Diane was eight, and penmanship was new to her and a thing of pride. Ian reached up to the table, took down a wooden ruler with a sharp metal edge, and drew lines for his daughter to follow. He handed her the pen and she hunched over.
"Okay, sweetie. Write this. Ready?"
She nodded, her hair spilling into her face. She pushed it away impatiently, a gesture of her mother's. Candice, who pushed a lot of things away impatiently.
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