Behold, an Ultrasound!

[idiosyncreant]

Of my most recent brain-child--Mr. Poisson and the [Blankety-Blank]
This is a teaser, the opening, and please let me know what you think.

Silas Poisson was the most dangerous man in Muldable City. His wardrobe being all in hues of magenta was not generally seen as funny, maybe because it trivialized the (reputed) blood on his hands into a lolly-colored joke. Why couldn't he wear red, like any other self-respecting villain?

 

        Poisson (called by his last name with no “mister” to show peoples' disapproval) was not actually a self-respecting villain. He did not consider himself a villain at all, and self-respect was for the boring. Like his arch-nemesis, Alan Pole, librarian and treasurer of the Friends' Trust. They were always very polite to each other. Poisson would return a book he'd come to regard as quite his own, until, with a nasty shock, he discovered a library plate in the front. When Alan calculated the late fee Mr. Poisson (for Alan was being polite) would be grieved and appalled. Getting out his little book of cheques, Poisson would offer an advance on the next time.

“Mr. Poisson,” the librarian would say, “we at the city library desire to believe in the best in humanity. I sincerely hope you will remember to return—” glancing at the book under Poisson's arm, “Deaths of the Eminent: case study in fame homicide within the month. I can't violate my principle of hoping for the best by accepting an advance on possible penalties. With regrets.”

Poisson would smile winningly, tilting his head in a gesture of understated apology, and write the cheque out for the large sum on Alan's receipt, but not more.

Anyone observing may have admired how the mild-mannered librarian, young and pale behind his glasses, stood up to the dark and impressive man of a (reputed) history of infamous if not famous homicide. Perhaps Alan's belief of the best in humanity really included Poisson. Perhaps it was just hard to take a man seriously when he wore candy-cane pajamas to the city library. Anyone observing would have agreed.

Unless they were children. Two of the children in question (of the few who had never seen Poisson to know he looked different to adults somehow) were in a very dirty corner of Muldable, oblivious to the fact that there was a Silas Poisson. They were new to town (as usual), being circus children. They were getting ready to settle in, though, (unusual) because their Da had died in the winter and they'd finally decided to run away from the circus. They hadn't worried about taking care of themselves, since their acts had been mostly panhandling, and under their “adoptive” Circus Master, pickpocketing.

That was before they knew that nice little boys and girls didn't do shopping. When the circus was in town, the strange was to be expected, but otherwise-- Since going into a nice man's store every day of their first week, they were trying to work around the eagerness of Suckers to put young people into orphanages.

I'm always fond of new projects, but I believe this one has legs.

I am vulgarly bespattered with henna tattooing I can blame on no one else. I got carried away and mixed to many metaphoric elements. Pictures to follow?

Comments

[idiosyncreant.livejournal.com]

Yay!

I was hoping you'd see this.
Which is a really good sign for this story, I feel like I know so many people who will enjoy it, from some of our friends who homeschool and like books like Lemony Snickett, to other MG/YA writers.

This manuscript's motto, though, might just be "No Parenthesis Left Behind!"