fourteen word stories

 

"Loren's gone again," Heike says quietly, looking at the letter. Orion nods and shrugs.

Where there's smoke, there's fire. Doctor Xavier stands shakily and turns the television off.

"You did not," Ettie grinds out, "mention anything about going undercover, when we talked."

Stephanie casts a surreptitious glance at her lover. It just seems, there's no time.

"I think Tiki Barber is a sexy mofo," Bobbi says defensively, not fooling anybody.

Orion takes a drag from his cigarette, flicks it away, stands. "Come on, Munroe."

"I think you should talk to Paula," John says, pouring the tea. "She's-- shaken."

The thick cold pours from the sky, and Storm's raised hands tremble with power.

"I-- you--," Snowflake says, snatching up the Playboy. "I read it for the articles."

Loren's gaze passes slowly over John's angry form. She smirks. "Try me, pretty boy."

Smiling, Paula hefts the short woman up. "You are most peculiar, tovarisch." Loren grins.

"What did you expect, Carolyn?" Polaris asks the empty room. "What did you expect?"

Bobbi watches the X-Men movie, frowning. "They gave Omari breasts. I don't get it."

"Carolyn," Ettie says gently, touching her bunched shoulder. "Stephanie is fine. Get some sleep."

No, not today's epic battle. Yesterday's epic battle. Today's faded wounds, tomorrow's interrupted sleep.

Shauna gazed long at Omari's relaxed posture, Loren's blank face. Finally, she sighed. "Fold."

Bitch, staring across the body at Hunter. Long they stood there. Stood and stood.

Rogue would sit alone, humming softly, until Kit sat down beside him and asked.

"Do you think I don't know what went on between you two?"
"Summers. Don't."

What it all comes down to is, who's at the dining room table tonight.