"Will you PLEASE keep it down?" M gripped her face, the fingers of each hand pressing into her forehead while her thumbs braced against her chin. The noise today was awful. Why were they fighting so much?
When the incessant buzz of infighting simmered down to an occasional hiss, she placed her hands on the table in front of her and took a deep breath. She had work to do and it required concentration. There was an orb on the table before her, but that wasn't her work at this moment.
She caressed the ancient tome sitting between her hands, feeling the throbbing energy of a long-forgotten wisdom. Elevating her hands millimeter by millimeter above the closed cover, a gentle smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. That magnetic force between the book and her hands was delicious. It was a rare treat, and all the sweeter for the long spans of time between the occasions she sought the guidance of the ages.
This was not a gift to be trifled with, so M exhausted her own wisdom and trickery before ever going back to the book. Only if a problem or disturbance proved too much for her own skills did she go into the depths of the hidden room to find another solution. She might be in here for days, consulting those who had gone before.
Especially if those restless... "SILENCE!" It never took very long for the noise to elevate, when they were in this kind of a mood.
Again, she waited for the rumble to subside before touching the book again. This time she opened the cover and began leafing through pages, watching the words transform as she paged through. Key words would show when she reached the answer she needed.
And the noise. Again. "CEASE! Or I will bind you," She cried, staring straight ahead of her at nothing. The hissing, screaming sound increased at hearing her threat. "Fine," she said, and went to a cabinet in the corner. In the cabinet she found the burlap binding that usually sufficed, and a lightweight chain.
Medusa moved to the mirror in the corner and captured all the snakes on her head, wrapping them in burlap and tying them down with the delicate chain. In moments, they were quiet, like birds with a cover dropped over the cage.
"Talk about your bad hair day," she muttered as she resumed her seat at the table and continued her work.
It's FICTION FRIDAY!
Every Friday, a new flash fiction story, inspired by reader comments, when possible. Feel free to leave a prompt for future use in the comments below. I hope you liked that story, based on the prompt "bad hair day".
If you choose to join in for Fiction Fridays, post a link to your story below in the comments. I'm going to stop pre-selecting a writing prompt, but I'd love to read your story. Just share a link!
I would think most of her days were bad hair days.
ReplyDeleteYeah. I had a totally different story going in my head this week, but I remembered the wrong prompt! So suddenly on Friday I was scrambling and had NOTHING. So... "bad" as in misbehaving. It's not my best work, but it fit the topic!
ReplyDeleteHa! Good idea.
ReplyDelete