Morning Brew

She finally woke up early for once! The sun was not even peaking through her window, but the sky was a brilliant gradient of light yellow to deep orange. She just lay there in bed and let the morning chill from the large window touch her face while the rest of her body was well bundled up underneath the blankets. Too many nights had she gone to sleep well past the sun setting and woken up well into the broad daylight.

She was a firm believer that one should experience as much as possible, but her night time romps had been taking away from her morning escapades and she was working to correct that. Everything in moderation she chanted in her head, something her father had said to her all through her childhood. It was seldom heeded in her adulthood, but she was rounding an age where she felt perhaps it was time to start listening to the wisdom of those who lived before her.

A light click sounded in the distance and the faint burbling sounds of water percolating was carried through the air into her room. Then the scent, the earthy bouquet of steeping coffee entered the room with a bold effort. It perked up her nose and transported her back in time to the days before she lived alone sitting with her mother on the porch on early autumn mornings. With a steaming cup of coffee in her hands, her mother seated to her side on the wooden swing. The light squeak of chains holding the bench to the porch ceiling as they slowly rocked back and forth. Her mother talking about the woes of being married to her father. All tongue in cheek of course, as they had a deep caring relationship that would stand the test of time.

The memory was brief, but enough to help her to push the covers begrudgingly out of her way to exit the bed. A new day had dawned and she was ready to face it. The chill hit her all at once. She was not expecting that, it caused every hair on her body to stand up and try to protect her from the frigid advance on her skin. She snapped up a comfy yellow robe from the floor, it was discarded the previous night hastily trying to get to bed. She wrapped the cold fluffy fabric around her. She knew with a few good shivers the cloth would begin to take her warmth and radiate it back to her.

Around the corner the last few drips of water making their way into the ground coffee basket could be heard. The coffee maker was doing its usual exasperated sigh of steam when the water would run out. This might be the first time in years she had a fresh cup of coffee, she thought. Most days the murky liquid would sit in the carafe for hours while she slept, getting more bitter and intensifying the acidic taste. Not today though, today she was very hopeful for an amazing cup that could warm her all the way through.

-V-

Fumpsy (Part 1)

On a cold and nippy night, Fumpsy the bunny went out telling his wife that he was going to forage for nuts and berries. She looked hard at him, then at their three starving children.

“Fumpsy, you are the best, you know just what to do, and when. You come back now, soon as your precious legs can carry you.” His wife said to him. Fumpsy nodded, and with that hopped off.

The wind blew hard on Fumpsy's neck as he hopped down the forest trail. He tried his best not to think about those poor little hares he left behind, and the terrible hunger that was growing inside of him. Snow started to fall from the heavens on him, and the only thing he could think was, oh great, now I have to worry about freezing to death. Luckily the snow was light, and not coming down too fast, so he continued on his journey.

The trees began to thin around him. He came upon a bridge running over a river. The river was known as the Furrfer, but most of the animals in the forest called it the privy (mainly due to bears that used it for, well they just used it, and we can leave it at that).

At this point Fumpsy had no problems with the river, he was thirsty, the kind of thirst that surpasses ones dignity or even their sense of hygiene. He started taking in the water in large gulps. The water was exceptional, well to a truly dehydrated being, any form of libation would be.

Suddenly there was a large crash behind him. Fumpsy spun around to find a shaking mound of leaves in front of him. He wasn't quite sure what could be going on. Then he heard a malignant groan come from the pile. He darted behind the closest tree. Again the moan came. Fumpsy sat shivering behind the tree. The pile of leaves began to lift and grow.

“Please don't hurt me,” Fumpsy screamed.

“Urrrggg...” could be heard from the mound as it continued to grow. It was already twice the size of Fumpsy.

“What do you want from me,” Fumpsy managed to croak out before the sun was eclipsed from his vision by the leaves, which were beginning to fall off like a stream cascading down a waterfall. The creature turned towards him, and took a step in his direction.

Fumpsy had no idea what to do. He thought to himself, he could either run like hell for his life, or... or what, he was too hungry and tired to do anything. He had no choice. He had to stand up and hold his ground. At least if he was going to die, he would do it standing tall. His children would be proud he thought.

The mound made another staggered step in his direction. The leaves were nearly gone, and Fumpsy could almost make out the creature that was concealed by the leaves. Fumpsy started to speak, “Wait a minute, I know what you are, but what is an animal like you doing in this part of the...” when the creature interjected.

-V-

Read Part 2

Heart of Revenge (Part 2)

Go to Part 1

Subways sometimes freak me out. I don’t much care for them. There are too many creepers and nowhere to run if you need a quick out. Plus there’s the rats, I’m not talking about the people, I mean real twenty-pound city rats. They gross me out, all pestilence and grease and hair. It almost makes me vomit every time I see. Fortunately they tend to stay out of sight, but one never knows.

The ride on the subway ends up being very uneventful. I’m mostly alone in a car with a flickering fluorescent fixture at one end. There is a bum sleeping underneath it. I can vaguely smell his decay from the other end of the car. My guess is this is one of the few ways left to stay warm in the weather. We go through a dead zone in the tunnel, basically where the wind kicks up and the electricity goes out. Usually its only for a short period of time, but this one seems to last longer than I’m used to.

Suddenly the car is washed over with bright-ass lights everywhere. It’s blinding. I reach for my crowbar I keep tied up under my trench coat, but it’s not there. Oh shit, I think, what could possibly be going on now? Across the car the bum is lifted up like a marionette with an unseen hand controlling the strings. He looks like the dead, eyes askew, drool escaping from the corner of him mouth. As he is pulled closer to me I can hear a sonorous distant voice, “Five sevenths and three eighths, you must be sure you avoid the wraiths. One half and four thirds, don’t forget to head the words.”

Blackness. Silence. The whooshing sound of wind slowly creeps back to my ears and the car lights flicker back to its normal pattern. Even the bum is back in his pile towards the end of the car. I want to get the hell off this car and soon. My stop is the next one. My stop is the next one. The train slows, the doors open, and I get my ass out of that station so fast the littered newspapers didn't even have time to react in my wake.

The bum’s words are still echoing in my brain as I get out on to the street. I don’t have time for riddles so I try to push it as far back as I can, but it’s like that birthday song you just can stop singing in your own head. I guess I’ll have to find a way to deal with it later, for now I needed to get rid of this package.

Fortunately the subway station was really close to the Chimay tower, it was only going to be two bitter blocks in this cold. The streets in the business district were deserted. It’s weird to be in a commercial zone in the middle of the night. There is a very creepy air about. Best not to think about it too much, so I flipped up the collar on my jacket and bounded to the tower in the cold.

-V-

Read Part 3