I placed my controller on the table and sighed, “This game is no fun without Alexia.”

  I looked around, then grabbed the controller.

  I sighed and put it down.

  “Guess I could read.”

  I flipped through my copy of Mort, closed it, and laid back.

  “Perhaps I could clean.”

  Looking around the common area, I realized there is really nothing to clean. Dust doesn’t exist here. Dawn trained us to pick up after ourselves. Snakes and fish are really clean pets.

  Plopping on the couch, I turned on the TV.

  It was too late for soaps, too early for cartoons.

  “What is this tired, uncomfortable sensation?”

  I puttered around Nowhere, picking things up, putting things down, rearranging robes, anything I could find.

  I was sharpening all of the pencils in Nowhere when I saw Alexia’s desk.

  Paper, pencils, pens, markers.

  “Hmm.”

  I put in earbuds.

  Hit play on Open Mike Eagle.

  And doodled.

  I screamed as arms wrapped around my shoulders.

  I slowly looked over my shoulder, then took a breath.

  Alexia.

  I took my buds out.

  “Hello, Alexia. How was work?”

  She shrugged. “Slow.”

  “You do work with tortoises.”

  “True.” She looked over my shoulder.

  “Those are good.”

  “Really?”

  “I like the one with purple and blue hair.”

  “That’s you.”

  “I assume the angry old lady with a crochet needle is Dawn?”

  I nodded. “And the blonde goth is me.”

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  Alexia laughed. “A little too on the nose, don’t you think.”

  “There’s nothing on the nose.”

  “It’s an idiom.”

  “My nose is very intelligent.” I grinned.

  She rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around me.

  “So what’s the story?”

  “We are fighting the evil Dawn.”

  I pointed at the first panel.

  “You’re holding an object that could possibly depower Dawn, and we are crouching because we’re being sneaky.”

  “How does the object work?”

  “It sucks out all her Soap Opera knowledge.”

  “We could use one of those.”

  She eyed me playfully. “Our dinner conversation would be much better.”

  “Conversation without alien babies? I doubt it.”

  She sighed.

  “In panel two we’re jumping behind a bench, having spotted Dawn across the street popping children’s soccer balls.”

  “So evil!”

  “Right. Kids don’t have the money to buy new ones.”

  “Exactly,” she chuckled.

  “Panel three shows you firing a purple-silver beam into Dawn’s chest.”

  “Does it work?”

  “No. Dawn kicks one of the deflated soccer balls at you in panel four.”

  “How powerful could a flat ball be?”

  “You’d be surprised,” I said. “In panel five the weapon flies out of your hands—into my head. Knocking me out.”

  “Oh no!”

  “In the final panel, Dawn gives one of the kids a wedgie as you fret over me.”

  Alexia chuckled. “This is really good!”

  “Thanks.”

  “What made you decide to draw?”

  “I was tired and uncomfortable. It felt like I was crawling out of my skin.”

  “You were bored.”

  “No, that’s Tree Reaper’s department.”

  “No. B. O. R. E. D. Bored.”

  “Okay?”

  “It means you don’t know what to do.”

  She pointed at the comic strip. “It often leads to creativity”

  I scratched my chin. “Interesting.”

  I smiled at my creation.

  “I enjoyed doing this. Perhaps I’ll make more.”

  Alexia kissed me. “That’s a great idea!”

  “Once a week wouldn’t be a bad schedule.”

  One month later.

  “Thanks for helping us send out my newsletter, River.”

  Alexia nodded. “Seriously. Last time it took us three days. And Dawn refused to help. Quote: ‘Print media is dead.’”

  “She’s not wrong,” River said. “I used to work at Channel 13—in the print division.”

  “The other Reapers are not as cultured as me. They do not have access to digital media.”

  River scratched his chin. “That makes sense.”

  “You two ready?”

  They nodded.

  I pulled my scythe out and sliced the air in a circular motion.

  Hundreds of tiny portals popped into existence.

  River, Alexia, and I started tossing newsletters one by one.

  A crumpled newsletter flew out of a portal. “Goddamnit. Will you stop!”

  Another hit River in the face. “Seriously!”

  “You two shut-up! I think they’re cute.”

  “Thank you Bunny Reaper.”

  “And the rabbits love it when I shred them into their litter boxes.”

  I sighed. “Do any of you read them?”

  A meek voice came from one of the portals. “Yes. And I enjoy them.”

  I recognized that voice.

  “Tiger Reaper?”

  “Yes,” growled my eternal nemesis.

  I turned around as the portals snapped shut.

  “Shut it down.”

  The Reaper Wears a Scarf. I hope y'all have enjoyed the ride so far.

  The Adventures of Alison Alistair and The River and Friends series - River and the Bug and The Beagle and the Robin.