Clare-Dragonfly (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
clare_dragonfly) wrote2011-08-07 09:54 pm
clare_dragonfly) wrote2011-08-07 09:54 pm
Entry tags:
Underground, part 2
Title: Underground, part 2
Word count: 470
Rating: PG
Prompt: 30 days, #3 and #4
Notes: Again, doing this crazy flash fiction meme as one weird short story!
Instead of explaining, Greg started rummaging in his messenger bag, frowning. I leaned back and crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him. Not that it did any good, since he wasn’t looking at me. “I’m waiting.”
“Hang on a minute,” he said in response, irritated. Finally, he pulled out whatever he’d been looking for: a black box the size of my hand and a small cup. No, make that a goblet. It was gold, or at least something that looked like gold, it was shaped like a wineglass, and there were rubies (or maybe garnets) inlaid all around the lip. Definitely a goblet.
“Hold this,” he told me, thrusting it at me. Like I had a choice. I took it and watched as he opened the box. There were three tiny crystal bottles inside—one mostly full of a black liquid, one half full of a blue liquid, and one with just a little pale pink liquid inside. He lifted the blue one up to the light, frowned it, and then pulled out the stopper and poured a little bit into the goblet. “There. One for the road, or for the tracks, in this case. Go on, drink it.”
“I am not drinking any fucking thing you give me until you tell me what’s going on,” I snapped, barely resisting the urge to throw whatever-it-was in his face. It looked expensive, and pissed as I was, I didn’t want to have to pay for it. I didn’t even know what kind of currency they used here.
He sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s for vertigo, okay? It’ll keep you from throwing up when we change directions again.”
“And why should I believe you?”
“Because the last thing I want is to deal with more of your vomit. And because it’s going to happen really soon.”
I looked down at the strange blue liquid. It was really, really blue. But… he’d gone to all this effort to get me here, so he probably wasn’t going to kill me now. And if this drink knocked me out, I might be better off. If he was telling the truth, I would definitely be better off. I took a deep breath, tipped my head back, and drank.
It was cool in my mouth and throat, and went down quickly. The flavor was hard to describe—something like cardamom and cilantro, with garlic, mint, and a lot of sugar in the background. That sounds like it would be awful, but it refreshed me like glacier water. And I started feeling better right away.
Which was a good thing, because the train did change directions. I felt my hair stand on end. I didn’t know how we were staying in our seats, but gravity was definitely coming from the other direction now.
Word count: 470
Rating: PG
Prompt: 30 days, #3 and #4
Notes: Again, doing this crazy flash fiction meme as one weird short story!
Instead of explaining, Greg started rummaging in his messenger bag, frowning. I leaned back and crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him. Not that it did any good, since he wasn’t looking at me. “I’m waiting.”
“Hang on a minute,” he said in response, irritated. Finally, he pulled out whatever he’d been looking for: a black box the size of my hand and a small cup. No, make that a goblet. It was gold, or at least something that looked like gold, it was shaped like a wineglass, and there were rubies (or maybe garnets) inlaid all around the lip. Definitely a goblet.
“Hold this,” he told me, thrusting it at me. Like I had a choice. I took it and watched as he opened the box. There were three tiny crystal bottles inside—one mostly full of a black liquid, one half full of a blue liquid, and one with just a little pale pink liquid inside. He lifted the blue one up to the light, frowned it, and then pulled out the stopper and poured a little bit into the goblet. “There. One for the road, or for the tracks, in this case. Go on, drink it.”
“I am not drinking any fucking thing you give me until you tell me what’s going on,” I snapped, barely resisting the urge to throw whatever-it-was in his face. It looked expensive, and pissed as I was, I didn’t want to have to pay for it. I didn’t even know what kind of currency they used here.
He sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s for vertigo, okay? It’ll keep you from throwing up when we change directions again.”
“And why should I believe you?”
“Because the last thing I want is to deal with more of your vomit. And because it’s going to happen really soon.”
I looked down at the strange blue liquid. It was really, really blue. But… he’d gone to all this effort to get me here, so he probably wasn’t going to kill me now. And if this drink knocked me out, I might be better off. If he was telling the truth, I would definitely be better off. I took a deep breath, tipped my head back, and drank.
It was cool in my mouth and throat, and went down quickly. The flavor was hard to describe—something like cardamom and cilantro, with garlic, mint, and a lot of sugar in the background. That sounds like it would be awful, but it refreshed me like glacier water. And I started feeling better right away.
Which was a good thing, because the train did change directions. I felt my hair stand on end. I didn’t know how we were staying in our seats, but gravity was definitely coming from the other direction now.