11 February 2012

WebComic of Doooom! Candidate 4: Gloaming Eos

It was the first day of spring when I drove up the coast road.  The first day it had been warm enough to put the top down on the car, though I still needed the seat heater.  As I crossed an old, steel bridge, the navigation system said, "Turn right onto river road," and I did.

In the email, my new employer had said the house looked like a Tudor folly.  I hadn't quite understood what she'd meant, but then, as I came around the bend of the river and saw it across that wide front meadow, I suddenly understood exactly.  I pulled into the circular drive, marveling at how much someone had spent on making the place fit the aesthetic sense of a by-gone era.  There were a few cars parked along the inside curve, and I joined them.

"Hello," said a woman's voice, warm and friendly.  A moment later, the woman herself came out of the porte cochere.  I took my gloves off, and smiled, getting out of the car, taking a moment to study her.  She was slender, with hair that might once have been quite red, but which time had faded to almost brown, and then threaded with silver... though, if I were to be honest, I would have to admit that there was as much silver as copper.  She wore a long tweed walking skirt, and a sheer silk blouse over a camisole in the palest shade of purple. "Hello," she said again, as she came within a few steps.  "Is that a Lotus Super Seven?" she asked, sounding surprised.

"Caterham," I answered, still smiling.  "But a Super Seven, yes. My father built it for me from a kit, when I was in high school."

"But it's so quiet!" She shook her head.  "If the camera at the corner hadn't seen you coming...."

I grinned.  "Do you want me to tell you, or show you?"

"Oh, by all means, show me!"

I reached down and opened the lever holding the hood closed, and opened it.  "A twelve-cylinder, hydrogen fired Stirling cycle engine," I explained.

"That never came out of a kit!" she protested.

I shook my head.  "My father built that from scratch," I explained.  "Took him four years. He saw the gas shortages coming, and bet on hydrogen."

She laid her hand on my arm.  "He loves you very much," she observed.

"Yes, ma'am," I said, "He did." I closed the hood back up.

"Oh, dear," she said.  "I'm sorry." She paused a moment.  "Oh, where are my manners?  I'm Esther King, and this is King Hall. I imagine you're Sakura Nixon?"

I nodded.  "Yes, Mrs. King.  Your new director of nursing, subject to approval."

She looked at the car, and at the leather-covered wooden trunk strapped on the back, under the roll bar, and smiled.  "Oh, I think you'll do very well," she said.  "You obviously value old things, and that's what King Hall is... a collection of old things."

If you would like to see a webcomic developed from this teaser, as always, leave me a comment and tell me what about it you like. If you hate it, leave me a comment about that, too?

3 comments:

Susan said...

Also intriguing and enough for me to say, yes, I think so.

Erica Friedman said...

Great start! ^_^

Jennifer Linsky said...

Thanks. Unfortunately, among those who have bothered to give feedback, this one has garnered the least enthusiasm.