Sol, Dolour Liberation Force. HoD Awaits You.

      Sol wiped his forehead with a sweet silken sleeve. “So what’re we doing here? Reminiscing’s all good. But it ain’t all good, Man. Keeping the window up don’t stop you seeing and hearing: electric sirens dope the blaspheming lushes that douse the flaming blocks that harden the sharp and shiny bladed pimps that cut the stink of decay and death. Don’t sound too much to me like pleasurable reminiscence. Memory Lane been tore down. So what up? Come down here after all this time, you be looking something.”
      “Do I need to tell you?”
      “Ask me, it’s about time. ‘Bout time too. Man, we’re burning down here. Ain’t no ransoms paid no more; ain’t no Holy Reverences even come down Kilnoxter way to nap; ain’t no Halls of Enshrinement anything other than charcoal now. Malin ain’t taken the baton like Kilnoxter. We’re vanguard of nothing. They got us checked and mated. You say you got the plan? When we talking?”
      “Weeks. Maybe just days. Soon, Sol, soon.”

[the above is an excerpt from Into Kotaom]

into kotaom is a novel by david faylin  |   Hostage of Dolour awaits YOU >>>  |   |   |