Wednesday, July 29, 2015
Jully, Day 14
The sun is shining beautifully outside. Two days ago snow fell up in the mountains. The crazy sporadic weather systems parallel my mood of late. For moments, I am bright and sunny, ready to take on my daily work. The next moment, I have no desire. I have been reading a lot. The experts say that to be a good writer, you have to be a good reader. So, my hours of being curled up on the chaise lounge with an afghan thrown over me and the puppy on my lap are not all in vein. Alas, here is my Wednesday’s attempt at continuing the story of a dwarf and orc friendship. Beware, I am running late do to appointments and errands. This is an unedited, rough, first draft.
Argora and Vilenok
The morning after the funeral dawned bright. Argora mixed up her favorite cinnamon scones. The swell floated through the kitchen as they baked. Once they reached a golden tan, she pulled them from the oven and wrapped half of the batch up in cloth napkins and stowed them in her travel basket.
Once out on the front walkway, she cringed at the weeds poking out of the soil. The celebration and her coffee get-togethers with Vilenok distracted her from her work. She leaned over and plucked a couple of the bigger weeks from the moist soil. Dropping them in the bucket at the end of the path, she resolved to work on the front lawn once she finished with Vilenok.
As she walked down the lane, she inspected the property of her neighbors. Paint peeled off the front porch of one home, but the rest of the house looked presentable. The home across the way sported a fun color of plum and white daisies and lilies gracing the front walk. The colors popped with the green of the lawn. This house looked the best in the area. When she turned to double check her home, she smiled. She still preferred the playful dance of her multicolored flowers. Her gardens reminded her of the mountain fields above the caverns she grew up in. Turning back to the lane, she looked at the yard of Vilenok’s.
The grass swayed in the breeze. Argora shook her head at the green sprigs reaching her knees. The orc family hadn’t mowed since they moved into the home. She wondered if they knew how to keep their yard presentable. Weeds littered the flower garden along the path to the front door. Soon the offending plants would choke out the flowers. The thoughts of weeds flew from her head as she realized the front door stood wide open.
“Vilenok,” she called in worry. Cavern dwellers kept their doors closed. Argora feared something happened to Vilenok.
“I am in the kitchen.”
The dwarf woman sighed in relief as she made her way down the hall. She looked at the scene in front of her in shock. Vilenok stood on a step stool with a paintbrush in hand, splattering good speckled paint onto the wall. Even more surprising, she wore a divided skirt with a loose fitting tunic in the style of the dwarves. The orc looked down on her with a big smile.
“What in the good name of Brokkr are you doing?” Laughter escaped through her words. “You have paint in your hair and on your cheek.”
“I had an idea of making the kitchen more dwarf friendly. I liked the gold flakes on the walls in the elevator shaft of the department store. I thought if I would add them to my kitchen, it would feel more homey for you and keep the cavern feel for me.”
Argora smiled. The soft lantern light danced with the gold on the wall giving the room a more festive feel. “I like it, but yesterday you left so upset. I am confused. You are no longer upset.”
“Being around sentimental dwarves must have that affect on me. It was silly of me to get caught up in all that nonsense.” The orc flicked the paint brush towards the wall. The gold splattered in a clump. She shrugged her shoulders. “Besides, I am tired of doing nothing in this boring town. I need projects.”
Argora’s brow crinkled in frustration. Either Vilenok insulted her people or her friend couldn’t face deep-seated emotional loss of her father and son. The short dwarf stood straight. “I think you need to talk. I would like to know what happened between you and your son. Why are you estranged? Maybe if you talked about it, the pain wouldn’t be so great.”
The black eyes of the orc closed as she took a deep breath. “Do not but your stubby little self where it does not belong. I will deal as all orcs deal. Well, I can’t kill anything, but I can do stupid projects, like painting.”
“I am sorry. I push too much.” Argora thought for a moment. “Have you considered gardening? Your front lawn really is looking terrible.”
Vilenok growled. “I miss hunting.”
“Have I talked to you about my neighbor to the left? She lets her dogs shit in my yard. I could help you garden if you helped me dispose of them.”
“Argora, I swear that sounded like an orc request.”
They laughed as Argora poured coffee for Vilenok and half coffee and half hot water for herself.