Thursday, July 9, 2015

July, Day 4


As I suspected, I did not get lost in the writing yesterday.  But I did enjoy the process.  However, I am still struggling with getting to the work.  I keep procrastinating.  I look at Facebook, e-mail, go down a couple of article rabbit holes, and play with the dog.  Why?  Yesterday, I read Dean Wesley Smith’s blog (I have been following him for about six years).  He talked about placing too much importance on writing.  Instead, I need to play, have fun, and not care.  Wow, I so care.  The funny thing is that when I paint or create things during my artist dates, I have tons of fun.  It is because I don’t care.  I wish I knew how to switch off the caring button for my writing.  Oh, well.  I will keep working at it.  Here it goes with day 4 of my writing project.  I left Vilenok spitting out the coffee Argora made for her.  One of my readers mentioned how Vilenok was “a bit nosey and strongly opinionated and judgmental.”  Well, she is an orc.  Let’s see what she does today.


Argora and Vilenok

“Oh, dear me, I don’t understand.” Argora stood up in frustration.  As she spoke, she grabbed a rag to wipe down the table.  “I followed the directions on the package.”

“That is your problem.  The directions are written up by humans.  They like their coffee so very weak.  Orcs are actually starting to drink it this way,” Vilenok nodded towards Argora, “much like your young dwarves.  I really don’t understand the fascination with humans.  I hate how our cultures are losing their richness to blend into theirs.”

“I agree.”  Argora reached for the coffee cup.  “I will make you a new cup if you instruct me.”

With Vilenok’s two fangs protruding up towards her nose, her smile looked like a sneer, but the twinkle in her eyes reassured Argora of its intended gratitude.

“I would like to give this coffee a try first.”  Argora took a cup off the shelf and poured the remainder of the coffee into it.  She rinsed out the coffee cup, washing the grounds down the drain and turned to her neighbor for instruction.

“A bit of advice, instead of throwing away the coffee grounds, you can put them on your garden to enrich the soil.”  Vilenok joined Argora at the counter.  “Now, instead of the human way of one tablespoon per eight ounces of boiling water, I like five tablespoons.  The old orc saying is that it will put hair on your face.”

Argora raised an eyebrow at the jest of her beard, trying to keep a straight face.  Her laughter joined Vilenok’s as the other pointed to her smooth jaw line. 

“Hum, I thought it might cause fangs to grow longer,” Argora said. 

Neither of the women could speak for a long time as they laughed.  Finally, with a strong amount of control, Argora turned back to making the coffee.  After measuring and pouring, the women returned to the table.  Argora took a sip of her coffee and shivered as the bitter richness coated her tongue.  Quickly, she sipped on her sweat tea with a drop of lemon to get the taste out of her mouth.

“I enjoy the smell of coffee, but it is quite bitter.  I don’t know that I would ever develop a liking to it.”

Vilenok nodded.  “Many of the races add sugar or cream.  Orcs drink it black as night, well, until this assimilating of cultures.”

Before either could continue the conversation, a chime sounded that resonated from a small square apparatus in the center of the table.  Argora reached over and pushed a lever.  A snowy white display popped on with writing scrolling across the surface.   Her ruddy cheeks turned pale.  Vilenok reached out to take Argora’s hand.

“What is wrong?  Bad news?”

“Yes, dear Kathina passed away.”  With her free hand, Argora wiped a tear from her eye.  “Her poor husband, he will be lost without her.”

“It is a shame she did not die in honor on the battlefield.”

Argora couldn’t help herself.  She giggled.  Vilenok pulled back her hand as if on fire.  Argora took the orcs thin hand back in her chubby hands and squeezed.

“I thank you for the kind orc sentiment, but Kathina did die an honorable death.  A dwarf’s honor comes from a life well lived with kindness and good deeds.”  Argora smiled as she saw Vilenok’s expression change from annoyance to confusion.  “We do believe that when a warrior dies in battle it is a great honor, but not all dwarves are warriors.  Have you been around dwarves before?”

Vilenok grumbled.  “No.  My son took a position in the counsel.  He thought it best we move into a diverse neighborhood.  I hate it here.  When I go out in the evening, children are called in.  Your people act like I will eat them or something.  I walked to the next neighborhood with humans and they were no better.  I would prefer to live with orcs.”

“Yes, I understand.  The humans think dwarves will steal all their precious metals.  Dwarves are no thieves and I am sure orcs aren’t child eaters.”  Argora pulled on her beard in thought.  “Maybe we should have a neighborhood dinner to introduce your family to everyone.  It will have to be after our week of mourning for Kathina.”  Argora jumped up.  “I need to get a cake baked for Kathina’s husband.”

“Can I be of any help in your time of mourning?”

“I would love that.”  Argora opened a bin, pulling out a bundle of bright orange carrots.  “If you grate these, I can get started on the batter.”

“I have heard of carrot cake, but never tasted it.”

“I will bake two.  The recipe comes from my aunt.  No one makes it as good as she does.”

The women worked in comfortable camaraderie, each marveling at the friendship blossoming between an orc and a dwarf.  Growing up in their isolated communities, they never would have dreamed of such a relationship.

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