Posts Tagged ‘luck’

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Cast of Wonders 597: Happy Go Lucky


Happy Go Lucky

by Garth Nix

Jean was seventeen so her Luck was the average of her two parents, a very healthy four point five. When she graduated from school in a little less than three month’s time, she would test her own Luck, but everyone knew that it would not be less than Dad, the surgeon’s, four point nine or Pop, the mathematician’s, four point one. Privately, Jean thought it would be at least a five, almost as high as you could get. After all, she was young and pretty and very smart. Surely her Luck must be even better than her parents?

But she did not think about her Luck as she strolled down the street towards her home, the last sunshine of the afternoon lighting her way as if she trod upon a golden road. She didn’t pay any attention to the street sweepers, who had just begun to come out as the day faded, ready to work through the night. They wore shabby reflective vests over many-times patched clothes, and each wore an ironic crown of twisted black wire upon their heads, the mark of the Unlucky. The crowns were attached to anyone whose Luck tested below one point two, and could not be removed. No one was ever lucky enough to recover from below one point two. (Continue Reading…)

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Cast of Wonders 280: Cateye Gleaming in the Dark


Cateye Gleaming In The Dark

by David M. Hoenig

Today…

James Riordan thinks that eighty four is a pretty fine number. It’s round, for one thing. It’s made up of what should be a lucky seven of dozens, for another. And he’s had time to get used to it, since it doesn’t look like he’s going to get around to eighty five.

The watery light of a cold February morning enters tentatively, as if unsure of its welcome. It rises slowly from the floor, up the starched white linens of his bed and creeps onto the homey red and blue quilt which insulates his thin frame. Even though he watched its hesitant approach the whole time, he seems surprised when it’s finally there, because he’s had to split his attention between it and breathing. The effort clearly tires him, because his eyes drift closed.

He wrestles his hand from under the sheets and up to his chest where he takes weak hold of a small leather bag which hangs on a thong from his neck. While he still has to strive for breath- oxygen supplemented by the twin-pronged, plastic life-giver across his upper lip- a smile settles across his achingly exhausted features.

He was not always so.

(Continue Reading…)