100 Words a Day 560 La Pintura Negra 3/15

The old man and the friar shuffled through the night. They were miles from town or village and without bedrolls, so they trudged on. The old man used his cane to steady his steps, and the friar used the old man.

“We must surely find the town soon,” the friar said, leaning close to the old man’s ear.

The old man said nothing. He continued walking, feeling the stones of the road beneath his cane.

The friar had finally had enough of the silence. A frustrated gurgle issued from his throat and he began tearing at the old man’s beard.

100 Words a Day 559 La Pintura Negra 2/15

The dog sat, submerged in the sand. It did not remember how it had arrived at its present state. As a matter of fact, it could not remember anything before realizing it was buried in the sand. It looked around. The landscape was a featureless tan, except for two things. There was someone watching the dog. They made no move to help him; they simply stood and observed. Then there was something else the dog could not quite comprehend. It looked as though someone had managed to spill coffee in the air and it had left a dark stain there.

100 Words a Day 558, La Pintura Negra 1/15

The titan put the child to his lips and bit with naked savagery into the soft god-flesh. With each maddening mouthful, he ensured the continuation of his reign anew. Gore covered his hands and chin, dripping down into the darkness, the silence broken only by his grotesque mastication. He had hidden himself away, but had any been present, they would have been unable to see the insanity that left his eyes wide and staring. After a loud swallow, he took another bite, and then another, until the small being had been consumed completely and then went back into the light.

100 Words a Day 557

He washed the dishes in a mechanical fashion, a trite description for an activity that one does thoughtlessly and through repetitive motion. It is much more than that though. It’s efficient. It leaves the mind free to ponder. Alternatively, one can focus on washing the dishes, turning their mind completely to that mindless activity. This has the curious effect of turning a thoughtless, automated task into an undertaking requiring considerable mental fortitude. The practice of maximizing one’s efficiency, and mechanicalness, necessitates the elimination of all extraneous movements. Curiously, regardless of one’s achievement, they still appear quite mindless to the observer.

100 Words a Day 556

The clouds gathered ominously in the sky and I hurried home. The wind cut through the trees, making them shake in anticipation. I closed the door against the chilly gusts and threw my bag down on the floor. It was late and I was tired. I barely managed to undress and stumble into bed. I sighed and settled in. It was darker than normal owing to the storm clouds. The wind whistled and shook my window. My eyes were already heavy; I was on the verge of dozing. The siren song of the wind lulled me into a deep sleep.

100 Words a Day 555

It was a warm summer night so I left my window open. The breeze was pretty constant in the summer and I loved letting it lull me to sleep.

As I lay there, the breeze danced across my back and I felt myself sink deeper into the soft mattress and pillow.

The chimes outside my window clinked softly as the wind danced through them.

The smell of green grass filled my nostrils, bringing a smile to my lips and eliciting a contented sigh.

The odor of the barbeque from earlier lingered; my mouth watered, and I dreamt of succulent things.

100 Words a Day 554

He was due to arrive in ten minutes. There was thirty minutes left till dinner. Everything was proceeding according to plan.

“That smells amazing,” he said as he entered, rising up to his full height and flaring his nostrils to inhale as much of the sautéed garlic smell as possible.

“I know,” she thought.

“I’m sorry,” she said with feigned embarrassment, “I’m running a little behind on my cooking.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind hanging out in the kitchen.”

In the kitchen, dinner was on the stove. It crackled and sizzled and was a riot of reds, greens, and yellows.