90 Deg. 5 H is a bit of off-the-cuff fiction that got out of hand…

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  90 Deg. 5 H I
  by Words and Chaos
  I think you’re lost.
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  90 Deg. 5 H II – I
  by Words and Chaos
  III thinn k you’ re los st.
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  90 Deg. 5 H. II – II
  by Words and Chaos
  The hallway ahead of him stretched. To his left there was a man. The glass ended abruptly and was replaced by grey. Back out. Blink.
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  90 Deg. 5 H. II – III
  by Words and Chaos
  I think you’re lost.
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  90 Deg. 5 H. II – IV
  by Words and Chaos
  I think you’re lost.
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  90 Deg. 5 H. II – V
  by Words and Chaos
  I think you’re lost.
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  90 Deg. 5 H. II – VI
  by Words and Chaos
  From the corner of lurched into the road as blinking in the dimness, and a flannel shirt tried to call an ambulance.
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  90 Deg. 5 H. II – VII
  by Words and Chaos
  15-SJ-3 was glass and steel and white. Randulf & Sons looked smaller than it was. Structured shoulder, extended shoulder, pagoda shoulder…
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  90 Deg. 5 H. II – VIII
  by Words and Chaos
  He licked his lips. Then he had an idea. He flicked a glance at the mirror, but the driver was studying the traffic. He covered his mouth with one hand, faking a yawn, and ran his tongue in circles around his palm. It didn’t seem to be wet enough, so he withdrew it back into his mouth, tried to recoat it with saliva, and repeated the process.
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  90 Deg. 5 H. II – IX
  by Words and Chaos
  The bouncer was a stereotypical lumpen mass of glowering skinhead shoved clumsily into a suit. He did his best impression of a welcoming smile. He looked more like an angry gorilla. Smiling, he watched Caleb approach with barely disguised disdain, grinning down at him from his great height, and seemed vaguely disgusted when Caleb produced… Read more: 90 Deg. 5 H. II – IX