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Nowell Venn

by NonAnalogue

nowell venn.png
NonAnalogue “Oh, Cadenza, I’ve been meanin’ to ask.” Beatriz stood up from the table by the window in Cadenza’s shop. She had lunch there more often than not - though you’d never get her to admit it, the smell of the flowers always put her in a good mood. “That military chick, the one who lives in the house up the hill from here, what’s her deal?” Beatriz looked out the door and towards the house in question. A woman in green sat on the porch, glaring back at her. “I’ve never seen her leave her property, but she’s always there, just… eyeballin’ people.”

Cadenza carefully lowered a flower into a half-finished bouquet. “That’s just Nowell.”


“Yeah, Nowell Venn. All I know are rumors, you know. Never met her myself. Like you said, she never leaves her property.”

Beatriz sat back down at the table. “Hit me up with the rumors, then.”

“Pepper, you know, the chef at the diner - she says that Nowell’s been here longer than she can remember. In fact, Pepper says that Nowell’s had that house since her grandmother was running the diner.”

“Her grandmother? How old is she?” Beatriz frowned and took a sip of tea.

“Pepper’s sure that she’s at least 80.”

80?!” The tea had only been in Beatriz’s mouth for a moment before she spat it out. “How in the–”

“I don’t know. Pepper thinks it’s related to whatever military stuff she does. Or did. Nobody really knows. Hence the rumors.”

“Well, maybe I’ll just go and ask her someday,” Beatriz said, mopping up tea with her napkin. She glanced out the window. Even though she could only see Nowell in the distance, she could tell that the glare had gotten more severe. “Or… maybe not.”

“Yeah, that’s what most people say.”
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