Hurting A Fly

She told me she was a pacifist, a vegan, and a dozen other things when I saved her from bandits. I would have ridden off without her, or just taken her to the nearest village, but she was small enough for my steed, and I needed company.

Plus she was a decent cook, at least with the plants she'd find. But slowly I introduced her to meat, and hoped that I could eventually get her to a point where she could kill if need be.

The day I needed her to save me, she couldn't kill.

But she could maim.

Melting Snowflake

I took my time shaking the snow from my jacket as I stood in the doorway of her house. If you're going to be breaking up with someone, the least you could do was not dirty her home while you did it.

I paused for a moment before knocking. I went over what I wanted to say, what I wanted to explain to her.

Then I knocked.

She opened the door wearing a cropped jacket. And nothing else.

I paused, trying to remember what I had decided I had to tell her a moment prior.

But it had melted away.

The Peninsula

The peninsula was settled by the animals because of the food, either the plants or the other animals there eating the plants.

The peninsula was then settled by humans for similar reasons.

The village was slowly formed over the years, the need to have a place to raise children, store food, and then somewhere to praise the Gods.

The village became a tribe, the tribe became a society, the village became a capital.

It was built up into a bustling city, exposed to the sea.

And the ships of other societies.

Eventually, the plants and the animals reclaimed the land.

Orders

She ordered coffee, I had tea.

We made small talk, which mainly consisted of large parts of our identities, where we were born, how we made money, what labels we applied to ourselves.

She ordered a double scotch, I had a cider.

We spoke more in-depth, which mainly consisted of small things, our stances on the use of symbolism in Hitchcock, if Monty Python was overrated, how we judged each other compared to societal standards.

She ordered one last drink, I hailed a taxi.

We spoke only in orders and declarations.

She ordered breakfast in bed, I just had tea.

The Owed Money

"I don't have the money!"

The gunman moved his hand slightly to the right and pulled the trigger, the sound deafing both of them for a moment.

"Actually I do have the money!"

The gunman spun his hand and thus the gun, indicating to hurry up.

"But I don't have it here!"

The gunman pulled the trigger back on his gun.

"It's in a safety deposit box! At the bank! Down the street, you just need the key-"

The gunman was surprised when the gun went off, but at least he had the key now.

Too bad he needed two.

Growing Numb

At some point you grow numb to this.

There's only so many times you can ride into a village, kill the men, enslave the women, burn the houses, and do all the things that the Leader needs us to do to win the war. Eventually you stop seeing them as people, stop seeing them as families and communities. Eventually they are vermin to be eradicated, a plague to be dealt with, a simple problem with a simple answer of the blade, the flame, the righteous fury.

At some point you grow numb to it all.

Right? Eventually? Hopefully really soon?

Getting To The Point

It was an unusual problem, trying to work out how to tell someone that you've worked out their secret, and that is that they are immortal. Or near enough to make no difference.

We'd been travelling together for a couple months by then, and she'd lived through the worst beatings and spells imaginable. She said she could dodge well, but that couldn't be it.

So I decided to wake her up with a sword through the belly to prove my point.

My original problem was thus solved, and then I had a new one of where to dump the body.