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Rise Up, Ye Women That Are at Ease [MultiFormat]
eBook by William Shunn
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eBook Category: Science Fiction
eBook Description: Reggie Teagarden is having a bad day. First of all, he's had to return his engagement ring, and he's taken a huge loss. Second, he can't find his ex-fiancee anywhere. And third--why are all those women rushing off with suitcases in hand?
eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: Washed by a Wave of Wind: Science Fiction from the Corridor, ed. M. Shayne Bell, 1993
Fictionwise Release Date: March 2006
Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [191 KB], eReader (PDB) [29 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [16 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [15 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [77 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [89 KB], hiebook (KML) [93 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [42 KB], iSilo (PDB) [13 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [17 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [45 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [25 KB]
Words: 4602
Reading time: 13-18 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
 
"...one of my favorites is 'Rise Up, Ye Women That Are at Ease,' a neatly turned tale about women who suddenly disappear and the men they leave behind."--Kathleen Youmans, Small Press
The jeweler tapped away at his calculator, frowned, then looked up at me. "Four-eighty-six is the best I can do," he said.
I slouched back in my chair and drummed my fingers on the glass display case that separated us. I hadn't expected more, even there at the very reputable Snarr's Jewelry & Electronics, but I didn't want to seem overly eager. "My fiancée said you estimated seven to eight hundred."
"She told me it was a third of a carat, Mr. Teagarden," said the jeweler. He was a stout, sandy-haired man in his mid-thirties, which made him about ten years my senior. His face was smooth and peach-colored, without the sheen of sweat that seems to afflict so many overweight people. In fact, he carried himself in such a way that his girth was one of the last things I had noticed about him. "You watched me weigh the center marquis yourself," he said. "Point-two-eight carats is more a heavy quarter than anything."
I nodded. "They said it was a third where we bought it. Stupid to take their word for it, I guess."
The jeweler didn't respond, only pursed his lips and glanced over the cryptic notes he had jotted down as he calculated, which I had tried to read upside-down. "It's a thin stone, too," he said, "slightly yellowish, and there's a little fracture just below the bow tie. Two-sixty-six is a very good price, and the two-twenty for the setting is even better."
I knew it was the best deal I'd get anywhere in Salt Lake City, but it still hurt me to hear our engagement ring reduced to such cold figures, see it lying dismembered before me on the rose-colored velvet pad.
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