Category Archives: S. Dawes

Drabble: Clone Baby – by S. Dawes

by specklit

‘I can return it in ten weeks, if it isn’t perfect?’ she checked.

‘Absolutely.’ The assistant swaddled the purchase in toweling, before placing it in the gold, cardboard carry-bag.

‘Even if it’s a small fault, like a mole?’

‘Of course, madam. It will simply be sold as seconds, and reduced in price accordingly.’

That explained the queue she’d passed when entering the shop: desperate, clambering people, obviously waiting for the sale to start. She’d kept her distance, in case the scent of their poverty brushed off on her.

‘I’ll be in touch,’ she said, ticking the purchase off her list.

Author’s Note: I’ve been wondering (since having children) what having a ‘perfect’ baby (through genetics/cloning) would do to the notion of ‘family’.


Drabble: Misdirection – by S. Dawes

by specklit

He felt dead eyes watching as he sunk his teeth into the folds of her neck. Drops of blood soaked onto her white collar: the stain, a medal of honour. His pack inhaled the scent, and nodding like puppets, allowed him to carry her out, to feast privately, his initiation complete.

His back turned, he spat the empty glass vial of rat-blood out from under his tongue and laid her in a plague pit, away from twitching noses, using the dead to perfume her.

They believed he had turned her but when the sedative wore off, he’d let her choose.

Author’s Note: I love magic, misdirection and rebellious characters and I wanted the monster to be kind.


Drabble: Heads Up – by S. Dawes

by specklit

The first thing she did when he woke up was hug him. But it wasn’t the same as before: his thick arms engulfed her, leaving her no room to breathe. And resting her head against his muscular shoulder felt odd. Perhaps she just needed time to get used to this new body: the shorter legs, the freckles on his shoulders and flat, wide feet. If only he’d had the platinum insurance, she wouldn’t have been limited to choosing from the back-catalogue. Still, any body was better than none and at least his face was the same as before the accident.

Author’s Note: I’ve become a bit obsessed with the idea of body/head transplants and what it would mean. This is the second story I have written on the subject.


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