Member-only story
Cycle of Reach: January
One of Four
Veering away from light and warmth, the little planet rode its ellipse out to the far, dark, cold end of its orbit.
The cold hasn’t locked down yet and, for January, Dox figured this wasn’t too bad but he did wish it would stop raining. He ambled into a back alley, thinking he could flip a dumpster lid open, jam it against the wall and tuck in under it for the night. When he first saw the rolled up blanket he knew it was going to be nothing but trouble but grabbed that soft, sweet comforter off the ground anyway. With the rain it was already colder than last night and, yeah, so Dox had been out here on the streets for long enough to roll with just about anything…but the minute that blanket was in his arms he knew it was worth anything to have that wrapped around him.
Now Dox was your textbook homeless case. When he was back in like the eighth grade or something a teacher told him he had the reverse Midas touch: everything he touched turned to shit. He spit on the floor and walked out of school for good. He’d run drugs for awhile but got strung out quick and no one would trust him with their product. He stole stuff. He begged on the trains. He stayed with all his sisters, his Grandma and even a couple of cousins who all got wise to his shit and tossed him after a week or so.
