Free Sin by Shaun Allan Page B

hounds could come a-calling.
    Oh my, wee doggy, what big teeth
you have!
    All the better to tear you limb
from juicy limb!
    "Always one for melodramatics,
eh?" Joy commented. Her voice was like warm chocolate, velvety and
smooth and, no doubt, high in calories.
    "Oh," I said, smiling, "you know
me. Why make a molehill out of a mountain?"
    Joy was standing in front of me,
looking much the same as the last time I'd seen her. Her hair was
just past her shoulders, brown with blonde streaks that were
not-so-fresh out of the bottle. Her eyes sparkled their usual
green, smiling even when her mouth frowned. She seemed taller than
I remembered, but then I was slouched against a tree that was doing
its best to make sure I never stood straight again, and she
was...
    ... She was dead.
    "You're dead," I said, matter of
factly.
    "You're not looking so good
yourself, mister," she said. "At least I can make a clean job of
it, not like some I could mention."
    I assumed, by that little
comment, that she meant me. Joy had a habit of, where I'd make
jokes, she'd make jibes. Usually it was all in good humour, just a
different slice of the funny pie to the one I tended to munch, but
I couldn't always tell if she was being serious or not. She looked
fairly stern right at that moment.
    "Hey," I defended, "I tried.
It's not my fault I didn't end up where I wanted."
    It sounded like I was sulking -
a petulant child with my bottom lip dragging the floor. I knew Joy
was only teasing, but I couldn't help it. Perhaps I was just pissed
off with myself. Perhaps I was just pissed off with the world.
    "Anyway," I said, picking my lip
off the floor in case it got dirty. "You're dead. You don't have an
opinion."
    "Who are you to say what I can
and can't have?" she huffed. "You're still, even after that
mightily pathetic attempt to do otherwise, alive. You don't know
the first thing about being dead, so I suggest you keep you’re opinions to yourself, thank you very much."
    "Sorry," I said, dropping my lip
again. I was angry enough at myself, not least because a seagull
and boy were gone thanks to me. Having my own sister picking on me
was a shiver past too much.
    "Sin," she said, the melted
chocolate back in her voice, "Get a sense of humour."
    I looked up at her again. She
winked and I realised what I should have known anyway - she was
teasing.
    "So," I said. "Death hasn't
dulled your edge then?"
    "Not a bit," she replied. She
stepped to my side and sank down to the ground beside me. Her
movements were as fluid as if she'd poured herself. I imagined the
whole cast of the Royal Ballet performing Swan Lake, or some other
famous ballet dancing show thing (I wasn't up on my classical
dance) pirouetting through her body. Grace would have been an
appropriate name for her, but then so would Sarcky Cow.
    "Death," she continued, "isn't
really as bad as it's made out to be. Granted I can't enjoy a Big
Mac anymore, but at least I don't have to buy tampons either."
    "What a lovely thought," I said.
I would have assumed that being deceased would have more going for
it, or against it, than the simple pleasures of fast food and
periods. Not that I'd have thought a woman’s monthlies was exactly
a pleasure, but you get the point. Not that Big Macs and large
fries are necessarily a pleasure either, for that matter.
    "Indeed," said Joy. "Now do you
want to get that lazy arse moving or are you going to stay moping
here for the rest of your miserable life?" She poked me in the
shoulder, quite sharply actually.
    "Ouch," I complained.
    "Sin, when did you become such a
wuss? Has having that nice Dr. Connors looking after you all this
time turned you into a big baby?"
    I wouldn't have called Dr.
Connors care 'looking after me', nor would I have called it 'care',
but I didn't think I had to point that out to my sister. I'm sure I
wasn't still the handsome hunk that had checked himself into the
institute. Granted, I'm sure I wasn't a handsome hunk at all, but
if I looked rough back