Topher Lydon
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Everything posted by Topher Lydon
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He sat in silence in the passenger seat, almost impassive. They hadn't talked since they had left the party, the Volkswagen cruising along an almost deserted Don Valley Parkway. At nearly three am, there wasn't much traffic heading in their direction. It was quiet in the car, neither really saying anything to each other; the tension was so thick that Marc was sure it could be cut with a knife. He stared out of the window and wondered how his life had become so messed up. But he had alway
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Marc had slept late, after the shock of the night before had knocked him cold almost as soon as he had fallen into the bed, grateful to finally be able to sleep. But he had awoken with a start in unfamiliar surroundings and it had taken him a moment to remember where he was. Will was already up, the clattering in the kitchen said he was doing something, and when Marc stumbled down the stairs he saw that Will was doing dishes. Jared sitting on the couch ribbing him about being domesticate
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Will was driving; the telephone call had come in just as he was getting ready to go. It had been quicker for him to drive Robert Avery to the hospital and he had readily agreed. The Jeep wound its way through the city streets as Robert sat with his hands folded in his lap staring at the road ahead. He hadn't said anything since he had agreed to let Will drive him to the hospital. Will left him alone, the message had been vague; there had been some kind of accident, that Libbet and her bo
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It rained, as it so often had before, the drops hammering down upon the outdated model SUV as it ploughed its way over the rugged countryside. The Land Rover had never quite lost its usefulness in a climate that seemed to want to stay as rugged as it had the day it was discovered by John Cabot all those centuries before. With the constant snowfalls cars were at risk from being stuck in the fields, and as it melted, the mud seemed to suck at everything, which left the only reliable means of trans
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The subway car was uncharacteristically crowded that evening on his way home, and its passengers were pressed together into the close confines of the train like mixed vegetables stuffed into a can. And Will hated it; he regretted again having to leave his Jeep with Jared, but for some strange reason the Jeep refused to go anywhere that morning. The stubborn vehicle had been plaguing him with an annoying yellow engine light on his dash that he had tapped a few times in the vain hope that it would
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They stamped inside out of the cold, Will leading the way through the small entryway into the kitchen as he kicked his shoes off. He fingered through the mail Jared had left on the side seeing if there was anything interesting. Aside from bills and a Reader's Digest contest form there was nothing. He glanced back at Marc who was fumbling with the laces to his heavy Doc Martins, and grinned as he took off his bomber and hung it up. "It's not much," Will admitted, "but it's comfortable."
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He hadn't had much luck the afternoon before, but a new day always brought with it a renewed sense of determination, and for Will, that sense of determination was for him to get to the bottom of what was going on. He didn't like being kept in the dark, especially in a matter that he saw as his personal domain. When someone went over his head he still needed to know about it. He sat at his desk tapping a pencil against his chin as he reviewed the computerized staff records. The database w
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Saturday morning was something Will usually sought to avoid, but he awoke early for no particular reason. He stood in the kitchen window overlooking the snow-filled driveway holding a mug of coffee and wondered how he was going to clear it by himself. It had been a particularly cold winter, but spring had seemed set to stay, most of the snow had gone and the weather had been almost like summer. That was, until the blizzard changed everything. Old man winter content to bury baby spring un
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There was a saying in Toronto, that there were two seasons: Hockey season and two months of bad skating. In a nation built upon the great Canadian game it was the religion that saw the great pilgrimage up the 401 every Saturday night to the Air Canada Centre arena that was the eventual Mecca of every red blooded Canadian. Tonight was a game night, and you just weren't a man if your pulse wasn't racing as you wound along the off ramp and the Air Canada Centre finally came into sight. It h
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It wasn't called the black tower without reason, the tallest tower out of the collection of skyscrapers that dominated the down town core of Toronto, a collection of stricken fingers grasping at the heavens. It stood in stark contrast to the others in that its surface was mirrored black, the pale glow of its internal lights did not penetrate its skin to blemish it. A monument to the security and the sanctity of that construct. It had been built with a dual purpose, to provide security for the cu
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Lisa Sternosti marched through the same door first thing on Monday morning, Avery detected the self-satisfied smile playing across her face, and the all encompassing sinking feeling began to form in the pit of his stomach. "I just got a call from downstairs, John Jennings is on the way up." Avery's smile was forced, "Excellent, on schedule as well." "You knew?" "I guessed." Avery drew out his watch, "3...2...1..." The doors parted and John Jennings marched briskly
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It wasn't a long drive, he thought as he worked his way down through lower Scarborough towards the lakeshore and his inevitable destination at the Scarborough Bluffs. It was a place full of ragged turns and pretty little houses in that last bastion of Toronto just before it became Oshawa. He was glad to get out of the main city; it was a place he always found smoky and cruel. He could feel his skin crawl whenever he was there. It was the sense of humanity doing what humanity did best; cr
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He hated it when he slept poorly. Marching across the floor to his office, he snarled at Jacynthe as he passed the reception desk, a mug of Tim Horten's coffee, as yet untouched, in his hands. His staff were used to his bad moods; if anything, it endeared them closer to him, made him more human to them, one of them, with the ups and downs that went along with real life. By all rights, after the day he had yesterday, he should have slept well. But instead he had just laid there staring up
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The Fairview Mall was really an afterthought to the city of Toronto. It housed everything the Eaton Centre did downtown, yet was located just far enough out of the way to be a fraction cheaper. That and you didn't have to refinance your house just to park there for an hour. It had a pleasant atmosphere, with comfortable sofas instead of benches, a number of coffee shops, almost as if the management wanted to create that friendly living room feeling. Except your living room had an average of a th
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The restaurant was packed when they walked in and it took Will only a moment to see why: the all-you-can-eat buffet was in full swing as businessmen piled plates high with overcooked pasta and yesterday's left-overs. It looked utterly unappetizing, and he wondered at why Marc had chosen this place until he saw the young man staring over at the buffet with wide appreciative eyes. Well, that answered that. "Afternoon, gentlemen," the hostess greeted them. "Table for two?" Will nodd
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He was glad to be free of the tie, slumped as he was in his chair responding to emails. He was utterly exhausted; the meeting had run on longer than anyone had expected, and by the time he had finally made it back to the relative sanctity of his office there wasn't much left to the day. He rubbed his temples in a vain attempt to ward off the headache that had set in somewhere in the fourth hour of presentations. It also didn't help that he had been sick the day before. He made a mental note that
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What was he doing there? He should have just done with it and moved on. But he sat at the end of the bar stubbing a cigarette butt into the ashtray and watching the door. The bartender didn't even ask, only walked up and replaced his empty rye and coke with a fresh one. Marc looked down at it, then up at the bartender, a large Asian man with a hearty smile who shrugged at him. "I took a guess," he said as he began to cut up a lemon. "Vancouver, right?" Marc frowned at him, "What?
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The couch was a wonderful invention, who ever conceived of taking a bed and turning it into one big comfy chair deserved the endless gratitude of men everywhere. For Will, his sense of gratitude at that moment was shared with the great brewer, Alexander Keith. He lay sprawled across the couch staring listlessly at the Leafs as they effortlessly outplayed the LA Kings. No surprise there. Brody occupied the large chair, legs sprawled over an arm, remote safely tucked into his pocket so Wil
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Alone in his silent study, Robert Avery stood staring out across the well-cared-for estates of the large house that was his home. The thick glass of the tall window was slick beneath his touch, yet he ignored the condensation as he watched the stabbing forks of lightning that rent open the sky. The flashes illuminated the gardens and, for a moment at least, banished the shadows that lurked there. Safe away from the hammering rain, he felt oddly attuned to the great force of nature that shook the
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The rain was hammering down; Marc looked at it as he came out of the shower toweling off his hair, feeling so much better for being clean. He'd had a great lunch, enjoyed the time he had spent with Will; it was exhilarating meeting someone who didn't judge, and didn't seem to care who he was. Even if he was a bit too prim and proper. Marc slipped on a pair of boxer shorts, hopping a little to get into them as he ducked into the small kitchenette, poking about in the cupboards for somethi
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He'd taken a combination of Dayquil, Neo-citron and enough Tylenol cold and flu tablets to make him rattle each and every time he took a step. He felt like death reheated, which was to say he felt like complete crap. The pharmacists at Union Station had looked at him strangely when he had stumbled up to the counter with his arm full of anti-cold medication. There may not have been a cure for the flu, but dammit, he was going to drug himself so powerfully that he wouldn't feel a thing.
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Will had given up, the bar was too quiet for him, and he was feeling old. It was a goth bar, a place he had never complete fit into, but his friends seemed to like hanging there. He often found himself resting on the end of the bar sipping something non-alcoholic and watching all the young and pretty goths flit to and fro about him. All the while he wondered what possessed them to get dressed up in black and make the trip every Tuesday night. He had stood, watching his roommate and best
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He fidgeted with the tie and no matter how many times it was tied and retied it still felt uncomfortable. How could someone who wore a tie every day to work suddenly be incapable of tying one? He adjusted it once again and started from scratch as Alicia slipped into the office behind him. "You're looking smart, boss," she said as she walked round to face him and took over tying the tie; in one fluid motion she had the accursed thing tied, tightened and straight. He glanced down at it and
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The snow drifted down around him; it was late for snowfall, but he ignored it shifting the heavy layers of clothing to ward out the cold. He trudged, there was no better word for it, and he placed one foot in front of the other without thought as to where his destination was to be. Why think about something he didn't care about. He went where he went, and never looked behind him. There were shadows there, things he wanted never to think about again, a collection of horrors that drowned a
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Bruce Weippert hung up the phone with a tense smile as he adjusted his tie, and just like that his acquisition of Rena Allison's stock was completed. It had been a simple negotiation, financial shuffling. He had used the company's accounts to co-sign his purchase. Gavin Jefferies, Avery-Woods' financial officer, was sitting nervously watching him. "I don't like this, Bruce," he said, licking his lips. Weippert sighed as he rested his hands on the arms of his chair, "It's too late
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