1. Glass bead
Canaan perched on the ledge atop her Shanghai hideaway, unarmed for once. The mellow sunset played on her senses like a cello, warmed her like a hot drink, rich and strong and easy for her to let slide into the background. Sometimes she came up here to work a job, take down a target; sometimes she came up to think, but not this time. Not really.
Canaan closed her eyes, shutting off only one of the many channels that poured information into her. She could still see in effect—the sounds and smells of the city, the feel of the autumn air and the gentle heat of the fading sun painted a picture she didn't need visual input to understand. Closing her eyes just focused her a little more. She smiled and rolled a clear glass bead back and forth in her hand with her thumb. It was large for a bead, bigger than most bullets, and very smooth. Smooth and cool. Like chocolate.
Where had she even gotten it? She put it almost to her lips and inhaled deeply. Ghosts of scents—street dirt, fish stands, salt and sweat—all tickled her memory. There was an orange feeling too. Maria? The day they'd been out on the town? Had that been it?
Not that it was terribly important to know. It was still a pleasant weight in her hand. A good taste in her mouth. Cool chocolate, straight from the fridge on a hot day.
She savored it- the evening, the bead, the calm time between jobs- while the sunset's music dimmed down to a gentle, maroon colored hum.