Greed

(obsidian – from my collection and the inspiration for Gregor’s “lump”)

Gregor McLoughlin nearly wept as he held the lump in his hands.

Not because it was ugly – no, never because of that. Being a bit misshapen himself, he looked upon it as a-a kindred soul.

The old woman had called it that – kindred. Had said it would grant him his heart’s desire – grant it, so only he could have it.

She had cackled when she said it. Witch.

It was a greedy thing, this mangled bit of earth and-and something – something not of this world. It sucked the light right out of the room. It seethed, hot and demanding. He could feel himself nodding at it, willing to do wherever it needed.

He understood greed. Hunger.

People said – out loud, and often to his face – he was an avaricious git. Every time he heard them, he also heard the envy in their voices – envy, mixed often with desire.

Yes, he was greedy. And they wished they could be, too, he thought.

His cupidity had brought him very far in this life. He had the best – the best cars, the best house, the best boat, the best food – everything.

The one thing it hadn’t brought him was Nanette.

Nanette of the emerald eyes. Nanette, the darling of anyone who looked upon her.

No matter how high he reached, she was always there, always knocking him back down, until he was that pimply, unwelcome high-school boy again.

One touch. That was all it would take, the witch had said. Just one touch.

Gregor looked down at the lump, turned it in his hands and searched its surface. There. There she was.

Her glorious green eyes winked and flashed at him from deep within. He had her at last.

Gregor smiled and caressed the lump.

And he would keep her.

Forever.

***

A: At 300 words exactly, my entry into the WordPress challenge of the week – Flash Fiction.

D: Yeah, well. That was, uh, interesting. Gregor’s a little unhinged, A.

A: Yeah, he is.

D: And he keeps walking around, talking to the lump.

A: I know.

D: You’re going to regret letting him in here.

A: Possibly – but no more so than the zombie.

D: Oh by the gods, don’t remind me. It took weeks to get his . . . smell out of my cloak.

A: Oh, you poor druid.

D: You’re mocking me.

A: Gently, D. As for everyone else, don’t forget, there is also a prompt at the Community Storyboard – use the words “the first time” in your piece, or use the phrase as a launching pad to describe your first time at something – anything!

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Descended of pirates and revolutionaries, Katie Sullivan is a lover and student of all things Irish. Born in the States, she is a dual US/Irish citizen, and studied history and politics at University College, Dublin – although, at the time, she seriously considered switching to law, if only so she could attend lectures at the castle on campus. She lives in Milwaukee with her daughter, two cats and a pesky character in her head named D (but you can call him Dubh). Her first series, The Changelings Saga, a young adult historical fantasy trilogy is available on Amazon. She can be found writing with said character at her blog, The D/A Dialogues.

18 thoughts on “Greed

  1. Well done, Katie! And I have to say this line, “Her glorious green eyes winked and flashed at him from deep within,” blew me away. It’s filled with so much emotion and depth. I don’t know how else to describe it. Deep-feeling? Yes, that’s the way. I loved this!

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  2. I guess the lesson here is: don’t knock down the “pimply, unwelcome high-school boy” 😉 Very well told story and in only 300 words! I feel like I got a novel’s worth of meaning from those words 🙂

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    1. So agree with everyone. I really liked this. I’ve decided to become a warlock and sell the rich and famous pet rocks that is their heart’s desire. 😀

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    2. Sometimes – although, I am hoping that Gregor gets his comeuppance – no matter how put upon, it’s really bad form to put one’s object of affections into an actual object! 🙂

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  3. I was waiting for him to start calling his lump, “My Precious.”

    Everything comes with a price, I wonder what price Gregor will have to pay.

    Nice job! -Christy

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  4. I had to poke my head out of my cave for this one. I love tales of obsession — you truly are a old spirit from the Emerald Isle — your stories just OOZE with old world charm.

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