Poe: Nevermore by Rachel Martens

Author:Rachel Martens [Martens, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Haunted Forest Publishing
Published: 2024-01-20T00:00:00+00:00

Part Three

“…"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! –

Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-

On this home by Horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore-

Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!"

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."…”

TWELVE

I sat on the end of my bed watching the clock tick another minute closer to six, trying to ignore the sight of literally every article of clothing I owned scattered about my bedroom as I felt myself spiraling downward into annoyance and despair.

“For God’s sake, Poe, where do you get this shit?”

I rolled my eyes as Liz tossed aside a sweater as if she were afraid it would infect her with leprosy. “Goodwill. I’m poor, Liz. That’s just how it is. You should at least be impressed by the amount of options you have to select for me. It could be a hell of a lot worse.”

“I don’t really see how,” she answered dryly. “You’ve got only about half a dozen tops that pass for ‘not homeless’. I’m afraid to ask about your shoe situation.”

“The Converse I’m wearing. The end,” I intoned just as dryly. After some of the states Frost had seen me in, I doubted what I wore to a coffee and movie date really mattered. At this point, I was seriously regretting telling Liz about my conversation with Frost the afternoon prior at all. My only consolation was that this was the lesser of two evils, the greater being not telling her and having her replace her usual two olives in whiskey with my eyeballs when she found out. The result was, however, that I had to put myself through the agony of letting her help me prepare for my ‘date’, if it could even be technically called that. From my understanding, food was usually a required component of a date, which was the only thing keeping me cynical and nonchalant at this point, instead of flying into a panic.

Liz groaned dramatically and gave me a dark look. “You should have called me earlier. Or last night. I’d have taken you shopping. Hell, I’d have even paid for you.”

I smiled wryly at her and when I did not offer a verbal response, her gaze darkened further. “Don’t be that way, Poe. Tread lightly. I’m this close to swapping outfits with you because nothing you own is suitable.”

I tried not to make it obvious that I was inspecting her outfit with dread, but she smirked and returned to perusing my dresser, foiling my weak mask. She wore a wine-colored thin sweater that was loose around her arms and upper chest, but tight around her thin midsection. It had a wide scoop neck that left her shoulders entirely bare and did more than hint at her bust. She was also wearing painted-on matchstick jeans and heels I could easily kill myself in. I had never worn jeans that tight, a blouse that

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