Wednesday
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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