Afronauts

Gisele Magnin

Mar 2018 · LesbianMuses

About this ebook

 Mikaela was never a woman who could be considered independent. At least not in the social norms. As it was, today was yet another day of tearing out the floors in an old house. Gaudy blue carpet, which was matted and stapled to water-damaged plywood. A gross and dusty floor, which she’d been sleeping on for days. Mikaela gave the floor one final stare of dismiss, before she crouched down and jabbed a crowbar beneath the plywood, aiming specifically for the t-nails someone had sporadically shot into the floor. She took three deep breaths, and lifted with all her might from the hips. Her forearms rippled against the strain, and she groaned in pain, until the nails ripped from the floor with several loud pops. She peeled off her dusty ski goggles, and gazed at the skeleton wood beneath, with a large cheeky grin.

Dust and sheetrock smothered oversized sweatpants, fitted over a pair of black jeans. And a wool sweater with large moth holes guarded her only black v neck shirt. Her dark wavy brown hair was tied in a bun and cast beneath a black beanie. And her work boots were caked with paint and dust. Like always, she’d borrowed some beat- up clothes from an employer, and threw them over the only clothes she had. This was the life she chose, to be a writer. A traveling vagabond with a knack for carpentry. She flipped buildings for shelter, and some pay, if pay could be given. As long as she had time to write, and the carpentry didn’t get too far in the way, she was content. But let’s be honest, anything that’s not writing, is in the way. And content isn’t the same as happy.

Vince, a burly blonde man, peeled his safety glasses off, and nodded to Tommy, who about the same age, was also graying to the point, where although they were completely different people, they looked like brothers. Brothers in ripped jeans and sweaters, with dabs of paint everywhere. Layers and layers of clothing, and beanies with bits of ceiling and sawdust.

“You see that?!” Vince laughed, gesturing in Mikaela’s direction.

“Yup!” Tommy shouted past a set of ear protectors. “96 pounds of badass!” He’d gone to war with the cement floor in the basement, and had just finished with the jackhammer, when he walked into the living room to see Mikaela tackling the last of the floor.

About the author

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