Pinky Thomas Novels & Stories

But for Thomas, the silence wasn't empty it was vibrating. ​"Mama, listen," Thomas said, his voice barely a whisper. He was standing in the center of the Bowery shop, his hands pressed against the ancient brickwork of the foundation. "The Shield-Ink in the walls... it’s not just holding the building up. It’s pulsing."

Fitcher could not refuse for fear of being reported to the Ministry of Education. But, seriously? Chess? I didn't even know what the game was about, it seemed super boring to me, but since I didn't know how to lie, Nick was the mastermind in all this. “Mark.” Thomas, the morning shift manager, was an eighteen-year-old boy with Japanese parents and very inhibited “These girls want to make a return.” Taking my eyes off Thomas and seeing who it was, automatically soured my day. "Seeing you again, Marky.” Cindy said maliciously, Thomas just looked at us intrigued.