Continued from scene fifty-four
Hours later, I was shifting from body to body, dancing to the jukebox, and getting pretty good at it too. Having Olivia mentor me was paying off.
Without hesitation, I could do it in any position without collapsing to the floor. Although I’ll have to admit, I did miss the exhilaration of my first shift.
But whatever, I was scanning memories, learning new skills, gaining knowledge. And did I mention dancing? I was damn good at it.
“Got me a little blackmail photo now,” came a voice from behind as Jeff’s camera flashed, lighting up in the mirror between a row of unopened bottles.
Jumping down from the bar, I quickly shut off the music and returned to my original. “Funny,” I said.
“Not meant to be.”
“How did you know I was down here?”
“After fixing the mess, you made with Karen, Olivia got worried. She was expecting to find you outside when she arrived. And when you failed to show up hours later, they both got concerned and called me.
“So whatcha got to say for yourself, Travolta?”
“Sorry, Jeff, I’ll pay you for the liquor.”
“I’m not worried about the liquor. I’m worried your drunk ass is going to expose my hideaway.
“So tell me, where did you get the alcohol? And I do not want to hear Jeff’s secret bar.”
Shift is an online work of fiction.
This is the first draft of my manuscript Shift – Don’t judge a book by its cover. I am writing it online in sections as I go. So feel free to comment, good or bad. If you see mistakes, point them out.
The story centers around shapeshifting.
I’m currently working on chapter nine.
Timothy French 