Emoranda's Creation

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: The Imaginarium
My latest flash fiction. Not officially part of the challenge, I was prompted off a picture I saw on Instagram.

Submitted: October 30, 2018

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Submitted: October 30, 2018



It was a cold Saturday morning. Golden sunlight streamed through the frost covered window. Emoranda had been up all night working on her project. Her dark hair was pulled up into a messy bun, wisps of loose hair hung around her face. Small blobs of paint stained her dress; a swab of blue smeared across her cheek. She bit her tongue as she carefully added the last touches to the cat sculpture’s green eyes.

“There, very pretty,” she said to the cat. She dipped her brush in a jar of murky water and whirled it around, “Let’s see if we can’t bring out the life in you.”

Gently she touched the cat’s body. When she was sure the paint was dry she lifted it off the wooden work bench. Moving it from what Emoranda called her ‘creation bench’ to another table marked in runes and other ancient symbols, her ‘magic bench’ as she called it. Emoranda placed the clay cat in the center of a four pronged circle that resembled a compass rose, but instead of directions it was marked with runes. Seven, off white candles, with thick beads of dry wax crusting the sides, surrounded the sculpture. Using only her bare hands she lit the candles one by one.

She held her hands over the cat, “Nea zoi-“ She cut off the incantation. She looked around the room.  Emoranda spotted what she was looking for; retrieving her pointy black hat.

She placed the hat on her head and looked at the cat, “Safety first.” She winked.

Returning her hands over the cat, she closed her eyes and spoke the incantation. With half of her mind she focused on the words, and with the other half she pictured what she wanted the words to do. Her voice grew louder as she repeated the words. The palms of her hands burned as if she was holding them over a fire. Her voice echoed through the small attic space like opera in a concert hall, reverberating off the walls until they shook. The pain in her hands peaked and she shouted the words one last time. She collapsed.

Emoranda lay on the floor, her chest heaving with labored breathing. With trembling arms she lifted herself into a sitting position. A candle fell from the table above, splashing the back of her hand with hot wax. Sucking air through her teeth she pulled her hand close and wiped the wax off onto her dress.

“Meow,” said the cat from the table top. His bright green eyes looked down at the mess he had created. All the pain and frustration Emoranda felt washed away when she saw the little cat.

“It worked. It finally worked,” she said in disbelief. With her fingertips she grabbed the edge of the table and lifted herself up, peeking over the edge, scared her eyes were playing a trick on her.  The cat was purring. It sat on its haunches and patted another candle till it fell to the floor with a muffled thump. Emoranda jumped up, grabbing the cat and pulling it against her chest. She spun around kissing its head before holding it up in the air.

“You’re a boy, alright then, I will call you Abendigo,” she said. Abendigo looked down at her with its deep green eyes she had painted by hand, a look of understanding on its face. She kissed his little forehead and placed him on the ground.

“Let’s go show you off. I think Ivan owes me some money,” she said as she led Abendigo to the stairs.

© Copyright 2019 Jack Crawford. All rights reserved.

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