Uncertain Fortunes
Not wanting to appear weak, the guards began to haunt Ore's tracks. If he went to a party, the guards would find some reason to invade. If he wandered into the street drunk, they threatened him with arrest.
Ore couldn't keep track of the faces of the men who plagued him. He came to hate their monogrammed uniforms, and as with any strong emotion, it became a passion. And his passion birthed an idea. Ore decided to remove them all, soul first. Once the idea came to him, he couldn't resist.
Fortunately, it would not be long before he had an opportunity to put his plan in motion. He was walking home from the market, with a basket full of fresh vegetables, when they jumped him in an alley. Five to one should have been horrible odds. Five to one should have left him dying in the street surrounded by his own blood and that of his juicy red tomatoes. If he hadn't been ready to do the unthinkable, to try something even his ghostly mentors had never suggested, five to one would have been bad. But, Ore didn't back down when they came at him. He set his basket on the ground and hoped they would survive the fight. With one hand lifted toward his first assailant, Ore envisioned reaching into the place behind the man's heart, to the place Bijou's soul had escaped, and the place he had sent it back to. With a flick of the wrist, he jerked the wiggling thing out of the man. Blank eyes stared at Ore as he tucked the soul into a preserves jar. He squished each soul into the jar together.
"Go home." Ore whispered to them. A feeling of power replaced his concern as they turned as one and walked away leaving their souls in his hand. Ore shook the glass and listened, wondering if he would be able to hear the souls jostle against one another- but all was quiet. Finally he set the jar into his basket and made his own way home.
Ore couldn't keep track of the faces of the men who plagued him. He came to hate their monogrammed uniforms, and as with any strong emotion, it became a passion. And his passion birthed an idea. Ore decided to remove them all, soul first. Once the idea came to him, he couldn't resist.
Fortunately, it would not be long before he had an opportunity to put his plan in motion. He was walking home from the market, with a basket full of fresh vegetables, when they jumped him in an alley. Five to one should have been horrible odds. Five to one should have left him dying in the street surrounded by his own blood and that of his juicy red tomatoes. If he hadn't been ready to do the unthinkable, to try something even his ghostly mentors had never suggested, five to one would have been bad. But, Ore didn't back down when they came at him. He set his basket on the ground and hoped they would survive the fight. With one hand lifted toward his first assailant, Ore envisioned reaching into the place behind the man's heart, to the place Bijou's soul had escaped, and the place he had sent it back to. With a flick of the wrist, he jerked the wiggling thing out of the man. Blank eyes stared at Ore as he tucked the soul into a preserves jar. He squished each soul into the jar together.
"Go home." Ore whispered to them. A feeling of power replaced his concern as they turned as one and walked away leaving their souls in his hand. Ore shook the glass and listened, wondering if he would be able to hear the souls jostle against one another- but all was quiet. Finally he set the jar into his basket and made his own way home.