‘Signs from the Edge’: A serial novel from EPIC Group Writers — Chapter 2

As relief from reading Journal of a Plague Year, Station Eleven, and The Plague, the board of the Edmonds-based EPIC Group Writers penned a serial novel for your entertainment. Since each author could only see the immediately preceding chapter, there are numerous plot twists and wild goose chases. Fortunately the “instigator,” Diane Naab, was able to pull the whole novella together after it veered wildly off course from the original story. Enjoy!

You can read Chapter 1 here.

CHAPTER TWO

Paddy Eger

Thomas shifted the laundry he carried to dig his apartment key from his pocket. He still felt like kicking himself for letting his landlady get to him. She was always saying things about him and Sally as if they were a couple. That was nonsense. They were just friends who lived on the same floor in the Capitol Hill Apartment for four years and two months. Sure Sally was cute and easy to talk with but she wasn’t his type. He’d only toss her unmentionables in with his drying load as a favor; he was just being neighborly. Besides, why not help a friend even though handling her bras and panties made him fidgety. Maybe when Sally came for her laundry he’d suggest she get a laundry service; she could afford it.

Jason was the one who had a crush on her. He used his ever-present paperback as a foil so he could watch her without getting caught by anyone, or so he thought. Thomas was on to him but kept out of it, enjoying their interactions.

Meanwhile, Sally had hurried off on a typical Saturday afternoon shopping spree. She’d wandered through the high-end shops and hit the shoe sales at Nordstrom’s but only came away with one handbag and two pairs of high heels, plus a pair of Bomba socks for Thomas. He seriously needed to jazz up his totally boring clothes. How did he ever get a date wearing those tacky grunge outfits? Come to think of it he didn’t date.

As Sally approached her apartment she looked toward Thomas and Jason’s unit. Her mouth dropped open. There, hanging on the doorknob was a barely-there black push-up bra. She dropped her purchases, grabbed the bra from the handle and banged on the door with both fists.

When the door opened, she held the bra forward, close to Thomas’s face.

“What’s the meaning of this? Why is it on your doorknob?”

Thomas turned several shades of red as he backed away. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, Hi, Sally,” Jason said as he hurried up the stairs and walked toward the apartment. “You should be asking me. Landlady Donovan handed it to me as I came into the building earlier.” Then, pointing to Thomas, he smiled and slowly said. “Someone left it in the dryer.”

Before any conversation got started, Jason checked his watch. “Guys, we’re late. The crowd’s already gathered at Karl’s Kosmic Karaoke Kitchen. Tonight’s the night, remember?”

 

 

 

 

 

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