G’narsh

The Troll, The Myth, The Legend

by

Kevin Stillwater

chapter 3
# # # And Here Now Our Story - G’narsh’s Ray’s  # # #
page 11


    Still oblivious or completely unconcerned, Flicker continues, “But she’s short every night?  Her till has never come out even.”

    “Oh well, as long as she’s a consistent thief.”

    For some reason Flicker is suddenly exasperated, “She’s not stealing from you.  She dropped the coin while she was watching Mi’lay dance.”  As she says this, a torch on the far wall that had been extinguished for the night suddenly bursts into flame and as the light reflects off of an advertising mirror (((insert the ad of your choice here))) the coin is highlighted amid a pile of crumbs and dust under a table... just as Flicker said it would be.
 
    And just for flavor if nothing else, the entire process startles a nearby mouse that scurries away into the shadows.
 
    Without looking, G’narsh replies, “I know where the coin is.  That’s not the point.”

    “Did you know that you have mice, as well?”

    G’narsh looks at Flicker and sheepishly admits, “I can’t find the heart to set any traps.  Any ideas?”

    “Are they magical?”

    “I think they’re just mice.”

    “It would be easier if they were magical.  You might be able to work out a deal.”

    “I think we’ve worked out a deal.”

    “Oh?” Flicker asks, curiosity getting the better of her.

    “Yeah.  I don’t kill them and they get the run of the place,” G’narsh grins suddenly amused as he turns his other head back to focus on Flicker, as well.  It is a sign of respect, turning both of his heads her way at once, but also -- having broken him partway out of his fume -- he wants her advice.  “It’s strange, but not killing the mice makes me feel… well, good.  I know it sounds stupid…”

    “I like mice,” Flicker reassures him.

    “Yeah, well.  Do you ever feel like doing something mean?”

    “You mean like evil?”

    “Yeah, like evil?”

    “Like singeing a cobalt when they’re not respectful?  Or setting fire to some snotty sorority sister’s hair when they complain about the lighting in here?” Flicker grins.  “The thought has never crossed my mind.”

    “But you’re good?” G’narsh asks, while at the same time the troop of cobalts climbs the stairs to the upper level and starts to turn up the chairs prior to washing the floors -- an act which leads one of the Charlies to the highlighted gold coin, which he picks up.  Returning his (almost) full attention to Flicker (while only casually watching the progression of the coin down the line of cobalts out of the corner of his eye) G’narsh continues, “But you’re like a guiding light?”
 
    Flicker takes a moment to remember how the saying goes.  “Hey, I’m good, but I’m not great,” before adding conspiratorially, “I once burnt down a house, you know.”
  
    “Really?”

    “I’m not proud of it.  I could say it was an accident, that things got away from me, but the bottom line is, I did it on purpose.  I’m not saying the guy didn’t deserve it, but I still feel guilty about it sometimes.”

    “How do you go on?  I mean, I’ve got a lot,” G’narsh pauses to smile at the understatement, “I mean a lot of blood on my hands.  How do you live with the guilt?”

    Flicker smiles, too, perhaps a little mischievously as she explains, “I figure I didn’t burn anything I wasn’t supposed to today.  It’s not like I’m not tempted to, but I didn’t.  Not today.”

    “So don’t worry about the past, just concentrate on today?”

    “You’ll figure it out,” Flicker assures him as she wraps her arms around her body.  “It’s freezing in here.  Have them throw a few more logs into the oven if you don’t mind,” and then Flicker is gone, a normal candle flame being all that remains.


G'narsh:
The Troll,
The Myth,
The Legend
(continues)




Back to
First Page of G'narsh



BrettWords



© Copyright 2013 Brett Paufler

paufler.net@gmail.com