Purple Dove
an excerpt

Inside the conference room, with public viewing but soundproof glass, the most powerful men in the world mumbled. None heard what each other said, and none cared if anyone heard them. When they returned to the public, they would all say whatever the heck they wanted, and add that debates were ongoing. There were biscuits here, and tea, and that was all the politicians needed to survive. Not one ever said it, for that would mean another could show him or her up, but they never intended to finish negotiations, and instead just enjoy the biscuits until hell froze over.

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And because that excerpt is rather short, here is a bit more to taste://
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Pizza Girl had many murderous plans, some even flawless, such as how to dispose of bodies perfectly through acids collected slowly over time. She knew all about the bad guys in history; Charlie Monroe the almost, Albert Varga the close, Osama Bin Laden the not bad. Over the years Pizza Girl had collected many enemies, and as such had many perfect plans, better than any formulated by the current “masters”. Because of the success rate of her small plans however, she had not unleashed her master plan, the one that would put her in charge of the world. Anyway, she would need a PHD in Newts, and this did not sound an appealing qualification.
Her pizza slice glistened. Pizza Girl believed heavily in many magics, spirits, deities, and general oddities. The caravan she slept in was always parked at an angle to the street so that it may face Mecca, and even though Pizza Girl was not a Muslim she did pray 5 times a day just in case. Her caravan was parked at an angle not out of obsessionism, but simply so that it was possible to pray in the right direction, for any rotation whatsoever meant praying one’s head into a cabinet of some sort.
Pizza Girl also read horoscopes, and regularly practised onychomancy. Onychomancy is being able to see the future in your thumb nail after a manicure and polish, and Pizza Girl usually felt relaxed by seeing her own image; so she wasn’t going to die until her next nail polish at least.
Her horoscope this particular morning was very unusual indeed.

Virgo
Your friends are horrible, so you would be best off to kill them all.

Certainly, it was not what she was expecting. Of course, to her personally it was quite enticing, but there were probably some Virgos in the city who would be slightly happier with the regular idea of going on a long adventure, as they were told most days.
Little did Pizza Girl know, she was the last Virgo in the city who read horoscopes; in fact, the last person of any constellation to do so. There had been an old woman still living in the home she had all her life, while the city was destroyed and rebuilt around her, and she often went on long adventures to the grocers. She had passed away during the night, due to a terrible case of “Things That Go Bump In The Night Syndrome”, as the doctor had called her habit of being kept awake by the strange creaks and groans. Either way, the company that installed her heating pointed out their lifetime warranty was not broken, as she was indeed warm in the ensuing fire right until the lifetime warranty was over. Though the lady in the office who wrote the horoscopes did not know this, the Gods who dictated the daily predictions did, and as such geared it towards their final reader.
Pizza Girl sat staring at her glistening pizza slice. The cheese reflected something, and yet it didn’t seem to be anything around her. Pizza Girl considered the possibility that the reflections might show the future. If this were true, then she could patent the idea, and sell the company to Paul the Persistent. That would work quite well. And so, as Pizza Girl plotted world domination through seeing the future, her pizza slice screamed unheard about the aliens trying to land in Sator Square in a few day’s time.