Wednesday, July 8, 2015

July, Day 3


The writing yesterday swept me away.  I delved so far into the village of my two many characters that I lost track of time until my phone alarm went off to inform me I had ten minutes to get to my physical therapy appointment.  I relish those moments.  However, they come with a price.  All morning today, I have been avoiding the page.  I fear I won’t get lost again and feel the euphoria.  Granted the bills are paid, the bed is made, the dog has been on his walk, and he has been to the vet for his rabies shot.  Now, I need to turn back to the story.

Argora and Vilenok

As she placed the lid on her new coffee press, a knock rang out from the front of the house.  Inspecting the room one last time, Argora rubbed out a tiny smudge on the wall next to a painting of a beautiful dwarf garden from the days of her childhood.  She sighed as a twinge of homesickness touched her heart.  The roasted smell of coffee bloomed as the grounds steeped, curiosity caused her to pause.  The drink smelled good.  She might just have to taste the dark liquid.  The knock turned into pounding and she realized she was rudely making her guest wait outside.  She hurried down the hallway.  Before Argora could utter a greeting, Vilenok pushed her way past Argora as she opened the front door.

“Making an orc stand out in the sun is bad form.”  The growl in Vilenok’s voice bounced off the walls.

Argora rushed after her neighbor only to skid to a halt at the kitchen entrance.  Vilenok, though slim, stood in the middle of the threshold blocking Argora’s way.  The orc turned swiftly glaring down at her and rubbing her eyes.

“Who decorates a kitchen in such a hideous manner?”  Vilenok lowered her fist revealing bloodshot eyes watering to the point of rolling tears.

Before Argora thought about her words, they tumbled out.  “Is that why you decorate in such a depressing lack of color with shutters over your windows during the morning?  Your kitchen is such a dreary cave.”

“Well, of course, we are cave dwellers by nature.  So are dwarves.  Why do you have to change your ways to that of humans?”

“I haven’t in the kitchen.  We dwarves do come from under the mountains, but we decorate with the elements of gold and silver.  Though far underground, we use mirrors to reflect the sunlight down into our dwellings.  In fact,” Argora squirmed around Vilenok to point out the painting, “here is the garden I grew up helping my mother with.”

Vilenok shielded her eyes from the glare of sunlight bouncing off the gold plated walls.  “I didn’t realize you decorated this way or had such gardens.  My house was all forest greens and browns from the previous dwarf owners.”

“The family you bought your cottage from is young and tries to be like humans.”  Argora spread her hands out.  “This is the old way of the dwarves.  I must confess; my parlor is in the drab colors of a gloomy forest.  The atmosphere is better suited for special guests.”

“Special?  So you bring the peons to the kitchen to torture them?”

“Heavens, no.”  Argora rushed to the opposite side of the kitchen.  A counter ran the entire length of the wall with windows taking up the upper half.  Working quickly, she pulled all the curtains closed.  “I bring my friends into the kitchen.  It is homier and more comfortable.”  She turned to face Vilenok.  “Is that better?”

The orc lowered her hand, but her eyes blinked rapidly not adjusting to the level of light.  “Yes, thank you.”  Vilenok stomped to the little table sitting against the wall and sat in the chair facing away from the windows.  Her eyes squinted in pain.

“I will be right back.”  Argora lumbered out the back door.  Thumping filled the air as she closed the outside shutters.  As she returned, she hesitated.  “Oh, my.  Now I can’t see.”  She lit the candle sitting next to the stove.  “I am sorry.  I will need a little light.”

Vilenok nodded.  “The candle is perfect.  My eyes are feeling much better.”

“How do you get around town in the daylight?”

“Many orcs have let the human eye doctors do some type of procedure to fix our ‘condition.’  I don’t like the thought of changing.  I go shopping in the evening or wear a bloody stupid hat with a veil.”

Argora pushed the plunger down on the coffee cup and picked up her tea cup.  Placing them on the table, she joined Vilenok.  With a set of gold tongs, she served strawberry scones on two plates.

“I don’t blame you.  I don’t like all the changes dwarves are making to fit in with the humans.  I mean really, who every heard of a dwarf trying to be skinny.”

The women chuckled together as they took sips of their drinks.  Vilenok’s laugh turned into a spluttering, coughing fit as coffee flew from her lips. 

“This is hideous.”

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