Unwanted Storytelling

You don’t want to hear my story.

My job was to go through donations to the library and make notes so the librarians could decide what to do with them.

And then one book came in, small, cheaply printed. Was about rituals to extend one’s life. I thought it was a joke, but I never have enough time, so I tried it out.

And it worked, sort of. I now get an extra year’s lifespan every time I take ten years off someone else, which I do whenever they hear this story.

Told you you didn’t want to hear it.

She

She wasn’t my first love.

She wasn’t my longest, deepest love.

She was selfish, arrogant, and rude.

She would argue against each of those labels for hours on end.

She took me ages to woo, I had to prove myself over and over again.

She wasn’t worth all that effort.

She didn’t share my interests, she didn’t get my sense of humor, she didn’t like my family, my friends, not even my cat.

She was boring company, most of the time.

She was only a part of my life for four short, painful months.

She has never left my mind.

Birthday Girls

For the first time in a long time, Glory was bleeding, hurting, in pain.

In danger.

She slowly, with great effort, pulled herself to her feet, as around her, the four of them floated to the ground. Back at college, the May 5^th Girls had pretty much run the social lives of the entire place, if they decided you were a ‘zero’, you were ostracised before the day was over.

And now, on their twenty-first birthday, they all developed superpowers, and were set to take over the city, or at the very least, kill Glory. They had never liked her or her sister, but Glory hadn’t thought it went this deep.

“Any last words, Slut?” asked Susanna, as she began to form a fireball in her hands.

“Better make them good…” added Alicia, as she mentally spun the zerotium blade floating in front of her.

“Because soon you’ll join your sis…” Felicia chimed in, drawing cosmic radiation into her.

“And we will rule!” Paula finished, electricity flowing throughout her.

Glory sighed, and glanced up at the clock tower.

“One year older.” she muttered, and then sprung forward.

That was when everyone found out the girls’ powers only lasted the day.

Tax Ninja

When the Red Lotus Clan pledged their loyalty to my kingdom, I was told by my advisers to visit one of their training grounds, this was important, apparently.

So I rode over half of my lands to the nearest one. I was met by an attractive, but short, girl who showed me around, although her accent was so strong it was hard to understand her.

Near the end of the tour, she introduced me to their tax ninja, and I chatted about gold for a while.

Turns out he made tacks for ambushes.

But luckily he also handled the accounts.

Out Of Fashion

Since the time I was seven till I was twenty, I was as deep into fashion as the next girl, assuming the next girl was equally obsessive as I. I would ‘borrow’ my older sisters’ magazines, and pour over every photo and article, from the latest couture appliqué experiment to the rise and fall of Zori sandals, I would memorise it all, and tried, desperately, to adjust my clothing to fit.

But eventually I decided it was all a big con, and started dressing for comfort, rather than for aesthetics.

Then the lazy look was suddenly on the cutting edge…

Tampered Strength

If my strength had come from training or hard work, I’d probably have better control over it. But just being naturally big and strong without any effort, I tend to break things on a regular basis.

Almost never intentionally, you understand. It’s just that when I lean against a wall, I am much more likely to put my hand through it than the average person would.

I’m not saying these things to brag. I’m just trying to explain why I didn’t notice the bottles had been tampered with when I drank them, I’m used to bottles opening easily you see…

Cart Blanched

I was trying to get her to focus on the menu, but she was still going on about how her boyfriend had to be treated like a VIP at the party.

“And he needs to have full unlimited access to the open bar, can we make sure all the waiters know that, he has cart blanched of the event, clear?”

Something inside me snapped.

“Cart blanched?”

She rolled her eyes.

“You know, French for full access. The matron dee needs to know that my boyfriend can-“

“Maître d'. And carte blanche, for that matter.”

“Whatever, just tell everyone printo, ok?”