Visit this post for more information on submitting content.
Part VI has been added to the Google Document. You can click to read the entire story or scroll down to read this week's submission.
There was one submission this week - by Rob Ferguson.
There was one submission this week - by Rob Ferguson.
*~*
“I give to you the magic.”
“What?”
“Si, it’s magic I give to you. Come, follow me.”
She started walking away but I just stood still, dumbfounded.
“Come, come,” Rita insisted, motioning me forward with her hand. Curious, I followed. She lead me
along more narrow hallways and dusty old passages that smelled of moldy potatoes. After several
twists, turns, and long straight passages, Rita stood infront of an old white door. The white paint of the
door was chipped and pealing in long curling strips that exposed a dark, redish-brown undercoat. Rita
stood in front of the door with her hand on the knob. “This is the room I stay,” she said in her heavy
accent. “Please, you wait me here.” Rita opened the door, darted over the threashold and close the
door with a quick snap. I heard shuffling and the sound of what I assumed to be boxes or crates being
pushed along the floor. I could make out a few words as I heard her mumbling in Spanish: “Mala. Verde.
Aciago.” Eventually she emerged from the room. Even in the dim light of the hallway I could see beads
of sweat on her forehead and upper lip. She was breathing heavily and forced herself to smile. “Aquí,”
she said, extending her hands forward. “For you.” In her hands she held this green bowler (Nomad
tapped the hat he now wore). I just looked at her, and laughed.
“Uh huh,” I said. “I suppose this is a magic hat?”
“Magic! Si, it’s magic. For you, for you. Now you leave and never come back.” Rita literally put her hand
on my back and started pushing me up the passage from which we’d just came.
“Sorry, sister,” I said, resisting her. “I’ve seen plenty of strange things in my day, but I’m not one to
believe in magic.”
“This hat is magic,” Rita insisted. “Here, I show you.”
“What?”
“Si, it’s magic I give to you. Come, follow me.”
She started walking away but I just stood still, dumbfounded.
“Come, come,” Rita insisted, motioning me forward with her hand. Curious, I followed. She lead me
along more narrow hallways and dusty old passages that smelled of moldy potatoes. After several
twists, turns, and long straight passages, Rita stood infront of an old white door. The white paint of the
door was chipped and pealing in long curling strips that exposed a dark, redish-brown undercoat. Rita
stood in front of the door with her hand on the knob. “This is the room I stay,” she said in her heavy
accent. “Please, you wait me here.” Rita opened the door, darted over the threashold and close the
door with a quick snap. I heard shuffling and the sound of what I assumed to be boxes or crates being
pushed along the floor. I could make out a few words as I heard her mumbling in Spanish: “Mala. Verde.
Aciago.” Eventually she emerged from the room. Even in the dim light of the hallway I could see beads
of sweat on her forehead and upper lip. She was breathing heavily and forced herself to smile. “Aquí,”
she said, extending her hands forward. “For you.” In her hands she held this green bowler (Nomad
tapped the hat he now wore). I just looked at her, and laughed.
“Uh huh,” I said. “I suppose this is a magic hat?”
“Magic! Si, it’s magic. For you, for you. Now you leave and never come back.” Rita literally put her hand
on my back and started pushing me up the passage from which we’d just came.
“Sorry, sister,” I said, resisting her. “I’ve seen plenty of strange things in my day, but I’m not one to
believe in magic.”
“This hat is magic,” Rita insisted. “Here, I show you.”
I love the usage of the green bowler!
ReplyDelete