Day 104: Bunbun of the Veleme

Bunbun dropped from the family deck to the friend deck elegantly enough following his mother’s daughter, but there was no doubt she possessed the greater grace.  Initially he’d planned to follow along to hear the [king] on the High Half Tread.  Now the plunging spears of light through the canopy conquered his eye.  Shafts of this caliber occaisionally followed a wind storm like the one last night.  These beams needed to be drawn.

He unslung his possibles bag and laid it flat on the deck.  First he arranged the chalks perpendicularly to the ledge so they wouldn’t roll off.  Next he slid his pad from it’s leather sheath.  Finally he drug a lounge over to the edge of the deck and sat on the end near his tools.  Bunbun began his sketch, not with the light, but with the contrasting dark.

Undoubtedly I write better in the morning.  I must learn how to make the most of that time.

Word count:  160

Day 103: The Balance of Marrow

I’m pressing the crescant to his neck and he’s saying words like magic.  Words that feel like they could unbreak a jar, maybe raise the dead.

"The best waters are swift and shallow."  He’s trembling as he chants, "The best waters are swift and shallow."  I realize he doesn’t believe the words, doesn’t trust their power.  This makes me angry.

I gave up my daughters and ruined my wife.  I burned my parent’s home and salted their orchard.  I eat the same meal and swallow the same wine.  Every day I guard this gate from nothing and no one comes.  I even cut my hair.  And he doesn’t believe.  I did all of this and he still fears these words have no meaning.  He rakes at might unyielding arm.  He pleads again, "Please, please.  The best waters are swift and shallow."

In an instant I decide answering this coward is not worth the trades I made.  I’m going to release this crux, let the prophesy fail, go back to my cold hearth.  He must know his death is next because I feel him swallow through the contact of my weapon on his flesh.  His tremors subside.  He makes his final breath.  He’ll beg for his life of course.

Then I feel like I am falling, like something I can’t explain has happened, like soon this something will hurt very much, but for now I just know something I can’t stop is coming.  He’s kicked me in the groin and I am on the ground inhaling air, but unable to exhale.

"I said, ‘The best waters are swift and shallow!’  I’ll be inside when you are ready to complete the couplet."

Eventually I’ll smile at my son’s return, but for now I’ll just puke.

Word count: 293

Day 102: Hallmark

It’s hard to get back in the saddle.  Even with just two days away.  Still deciding if those were post-justified planned outages or full-on fails.

“Ready,” the gray haired gentleman states like a question.  The gray haired lady simply heads for the door.

Later, in the car, she says, “It’s too bad Jimmy can’t make it.  I always look forward to seeing the girls.”

“Yes.”

The waiter sets the check in front of the gentleman.  “The fish wasn’t as good as yours.”  The lady offers him her good ear.  Gesturing with a wavering hand that she didn’t hear.

“I said, ‘The fish wasn’t…'”  The lady conceals a smile.  “Stop that.  I compliment you enough.  You don’t need to hear it twice.”

“Here.  Let me get that for you.”  The young man holds the shop door open.  Warm cinnamon air envelopes the three of them for a moment, then the boy is gone.  Inside it smells like candles.

The gray haired couple stand shoulder to shoulder at the end of the card rack.  The lady selects a pink one.  The open card flutters like a rose in a breeze in her trembling hands as she reads.  She puts it back.  Next a pale yellow one.  She snorts almost immediately and offers it to the gentleman.  Up-nods in agreement.  He puts it back.

The gentleman scans the rows with his finger like he’s tracing out sentences on a page.  The doorbell jingles as a new man comes in.

To be continued…

Word count:  241