Wednesday, July 8, 2015
July, Day 2
The writing yesterday was a bit tough. I felt the emptiness of my imagination assaulting my fingers into a fearful paralysis. When life is simple, the ideas flow smoothly. Somehow, I need to power through to enable myself to flow during the tough times in life. I worked at the writing for three hours and did not hit 1,000 words. During a good writing session, I can hit about 800 words in an hour. I will keep typing. Hopefully, I will break the dam to let the ideas flow quickly once again.
Argora and Vilenok
Walking across the village square, Argora looked with apprehension at the orcs clustered around a three story building. Nervously, she dodged around their legs to enter the bottom floor of the orc mercantile. The bell over the door jingled as many sets of black eyes looked in her direction, turned to resume their shopping only to look again when it dawned on them a dwarf entered their shop. Her lips twitched as she struggled to maintain a smile. The aroma of blood permeated the establishment. To her left, she tried to ignore the sounds of a squealing pig as a massive orc slit the throat for a waiting customer. Stepping up to the clerk, she looked up and up.
“Good morning, I need coffee. I will be entertaining my new neighbor, but I haven’t any idea how to make the drink, let alone how much to buy.” She fidgeted with the lapel of her coat. “Would you be able to help me?”
A growl radiated from above her as he glared down at her. The smile fell from her face and her eyebrows wrinkled. The previous night she research one of her husband’s diplomatic books on orcs. The author stated that the orc race interacted in business with the personality of a mother grizzly bear defending her cubs. They hated sunny dispositions, uncertainty, and cowardliness.
“Show me the items I require.” Placing her fists on her hips, she willed herself to take a step forward, though she wanted to flee out the door instead.
The clerk nodded. “This way.”
Orcs normally walked with long strides, not giving thought to shorter races. In her studies years ago, a professor teamed her up with an orc classmate on a science project. They studied trees and had to collect leaves and pine needles for a display. She never ran so much in her life just keeping up. Now the clerk walked slowly through the displays. Argora wanted to give him the benefit of taking his time for her sake with her short little legs, but as she glanced at the barrels of live eels, snakes, and spiders, she knew he wanted her to squirm in disgust. She determined to not give him the satisfaction.
They turned into an isle filled with bagged items and curious instruments. A flat metal object with long deadly spikes glistened in the lamp light. Shuddering at the potential torturing capabilities, she looked at the backside of the clerk instead of looking at other items. The stretchy material of his uniform showed his rippling lean muscles, a little scrawny for her tastes, but not as frightening as their cooking utensils.
The clerk grabbed a tall blood red metal cup with a black lid off the shelf. “Here is what is known as a coffee press for one.” He pulled off the lid and pulled the plunger apparatus to the top of the lid. “You put the coffee grounds into the bottom of the cup and fill it with boiling hot water. Replace the lid with the plunger in the upper position. Let this steep as long as you would your blasted tea leaves. When it is done, push the plunger down.” He grabbed the smallest bag of coffee and started down the aisle.
“Sir,” she said. “I will take the medium sized bag.”
He turned with a look of irritation on his face. “The small bag will be plenty for one meeting. I am sure you will not need more.”
“Really? You are going push a smaller sale on me just to prove a point of orc and dwarf tensions?” Argora grabbed the bag out of his hand and placed it back on the shelf. “You obviously need some lessons in salesmanship and the bullheadedness of dwarves.” Stomping down the aisle, she called over her shoulder. “Now get me the coffee.”
At the counter, she slammed a gold coin on the counter. Her small foot tapped on the floor as she impatiently waited for the clerk to ring up her transaction. He handed her a few silvers and her bagged items. With her shoulders thrown back, she marched to the door. An old orc elder opened the door for her, lowering his head in a respectful salute.
“Good day kind sir.”
Once outside the shop, she sighed in relief. Smiling, she sauntered down the lane to finish her shopping for the day.