Whisky looked over the shoulder of her Speakeasy moneyman and accountant, Smokin’ Fingers; Business had not been booming lately and she had a sense that he’d been dipping into the till at the same time he’d been cooking the books for her. Like the Scottish mage, he had become a liability, even if he was a lot younger and quite a bit more handsome.
Tossing back the last of her hooch, Whisky blew lightly on the back of Smokin’s neck, solidifying her plan to get rid of the both of them in one fell swoop after one last tumble, with the help of a recently acquired Appalachian associate.
Little did she know that her new associate was one of three, and that the many threads spun by the dark-eyed one had already been gathered and woven together, the pattern designed and selected by the golden-eyed one, while the third, her eyes calm and green as the sea before a storm, stood by with her shears poised to separate, that a new pattern might grow out of the old.
But the Scotsman was aware, even if not fully resigned to his fate, and he carved one more set of runes just above the brass tablet on the wall of the bootlegger’s walkway, and shouted its name into the darkness, as he sizzled and collapsed into a dark star, and an eruption of sewer water roiled over the walkway and up the tunnel to flood the musicians and lovers, sweet-faced whores and bleary-eyed addicts, rich boy drinkers and disenchanted cops, that frequented the Speakeasy.
The three weird sisters from Appalachia put their threads and cloth and shears down, just to enjoy that singular moment, before again taking up their work.
© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2022)
To get back to the serial’s start, click here for Part 1
The challenge? Write a story in 6 sentences, no more & no less, and if you’d like, share your creation or just visit and comment on others’ ideas, with GirlieOnTheEdge, Denise. The prompt is “ERUPTION”, and here’s where you join the party: Six Sentence Stories
Liz, Liz…you had me from the moment you went “dark” !
And, in your trademark fashion, you go and hide in plain sight gems.
Example: “her shears poised to separate, that a new pattern might grow out of the old.”
and
” The three weird sisters from Appalachia put their threads and cloth and shears down, just to enjoy that singular moment, before again taking up their work. ”
You have said that Timing is everything…rarely it happens but when it does, an act defies the shears and makes the Fates pause…what an imagery!!
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Thank you!
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One Appalachian associate was weird, but three?
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Kinda looks like the Fates, doesn’t it? 😉
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Lots of wild action in this! 🙂
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More to come…😉
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Always 🙂
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Always fascinating to see what will happen next here.
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For me, too. The prompts take me in weird places…Lol!
Having fun!
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love that construct, the three weird sisters (from Appalachia)… there’s an extra bit of fun with characters like that, one unified value while allowing for divergent individuals.
cool serial
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Thanks, Clark! Yeah, they just wanted to be seen…
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A Scot who collapses into a dark star!
Whatever next?
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Heh heh heh…☠🙀
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Hmmm….I didn’t see that coming!
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Good writing
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Thank you, UP! 🦔
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Dippin’ and cookin’ at the same time, Liz! No wonder something doesn’t add up.
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Some recipes just taste…wrong! 😆
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Some of the ones I use certainly do!
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I like the way Whisky is methodical. No sense rushing the deed.
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Timing is everything.😉
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Beautiful language, imagination and mystery, Liz.
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Thanks, Jenne!
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Dipping into the till and cooking the books. What was he making? Paper pastry (to coin a phrase)?
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Not much of anything, once Whisky gets done with him, eh?
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Ah, the thot plickens.
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That sewer water probably put an end to the business and clientele.
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Check in here next Saturday, and find out…😉
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