Far Fetched Fables No. 82 Laurence Raphael Brothers and Pauline J. Alama

Flash Fiction: “Innumerate” by Laurence Raphael Brothers

The sorcerer stands in the center of a magic circle, a conservative gray business suit showing under his white ritual mantle, the traditional rod of blasting in his hand. I’m off to the side, in the triangle of summoning.“Come not in that form! I adjure thee. In the holy name of–“

Okay, so maybe the roiling nest of cobras was a bit over the top. But I hate this slow, grainy material world. These sorcerers think we’ve got nothing better to do than wait on them.

“Hold on,” I say. “How’s this?” Now I’m a rotating polyhedron, Kepler’s stella octangula. I didn’t mind it when Johannes summoned me. At least he knew his geometry and orbital mechanics.

“Not in that form, either,” says the sorcerer.

I’d roll my eyes if I had them. Maybe if they’d tell me up front what form they wanted, I wouldn’t have to go through this every time. I try again.

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