A Collection of Stories

Courgi

It was still sunny when I took a seat at my table. 

My books were strewn all over every possible inch of surface and books towered towards the ceiling on every available space on the floor. The route to my table was an elaborate labyrinth and I dumped papers rooted to the cushion of my chair onto the table as I pulled the chair backwards. The only part of the floor that wasn't occupied by books was the area next to the glass window. I called it my thinking spot. It was a great frame of the world-with the bustling city roaring below, the sparkling ocean winking its many dimes in the humid air.

Peddlers selling fruit and spices were absent from their stalls on this very day. It was an unspoken rule to have one day in a year where no one could leave the four walls of safety that they called home. Rumour has it the that on first day of July, when the sun reached its highest peak, the world would quieten and the air would still. That would be the signal of the Courgi's arrival. The Courgi were the royals of Sylia. Born and bred to be ruthless and selfish from the very day they open their beady little eyes. Rumours were that the daughters were as beautiful as porcelain dolls and as cunning and sharp as porcelain shards. The sons were as cunning and conniving as foxes, or as some say, bred from the devil himself. Some say the devil breathes and speaks to them through their blood that runs in their very veins but no one needed any rumours to know they were filthy rich. Those brave enough would talk and question their ruling out loud. However, no one could follow up or confirm whether they spoke the truth because the very next day, they could not speak another word. Now and then, families mourn that their child was snatched away in the middle of the night and some returned. Anyone who spoke ill of them or met with the Courgi all had the same look to them. Despite them still being alive and existing, everyone knows when one has lost one's soul to the Courgi. Being a person obsessed over science, makes me doubt that such rumours hold true. I know that the Courgi should not be messed with but if I don't cross the line, nothing can happen to me. The rational part of me knows that rumours are only based on small kernels of truth but lies can be spun along the way as it passes from person to person. Gossip-a very tangible and fickle spark. For all I know, the Corugi themselves might have dispersed such gossip among the public to keep everyone in line. 

 A shiver of an emotion I could not place skated down my spine. A lazy draft slipped through the grills of my window as another cloud passed the sun spilling sunlight onto the wooden boards. The scrape of leaves dragged along the cobblestone as the dead leaves got swept up in a breeze. The leaves danced in an entrancing circle as they slid further down the pavement. Leaves twirled down from the trees outside of my window in fluttering, calculated motions. It was a shame this day was one where we had to stay indoors. I could smell the freshness of the sea, tinged with salt and I could imagine the playful wind darting through the folds of my skirt. A good book under the shade would be nice.

"Wouldn't it?" an unfamiliar voice drawled.

I spun around in my chair to face a tall shadow before the world went black. The last thing I realised before my eyes swept shut was that the sky had lost the sun and was a purpling bruise.