Short-form fiction

Suitov put the necklace down.

Weft knew whom he'd been considering it for. It was obvious, because Suitov had flushed the skin of his hand a more healthy pink and drawn a blood-red streak in the air before holding up the necklace beside it, chain looped between his fingers, dangling onto his palm.

Jaina had been absent for two months this time. Weft never brought the topic up, exactly, but he knew Suitov missed her.

The necklace would suit her.

But Suitov's brows lowered, just a fraction, and his lips thinned, a very little fraction, and he put it back.

The stall-owner was paying attention too. "Something for your special woman? Special man? I have more jades in stock," he said and flourished another tray.

Suitov smiled convincingly and gestured polite refusal. "Another time, another time. We have to be off." He strolled away through the market, breaking stride once with a chuckle to avoid two children chasing after a goose.

There wouldn't be another time, of course. They were just passing through this world on their way to another.

After a few seconds Suitov called over his shoulder. "Weft! Come! We can't keep the Courier waiting."

Weft nodded to the stall-owner, dropped the money onto the counter and hurried after, tucking the little packet safely into the satchel he was holding for his employer.

He'd wait until evening, whenever 'evening' was on this planet. He'd watch and he'd wait until Suitov began to regret not buying the necklace. Then he'd drop it into his lap.