Dance of Ciprahn

Chapter Three

There is a ton of ice on the roads. Cass awakes to the sound of her alarm clock with her customary litany of swear words and threats. After a few choice verbal vituperations, she gets herself up out of bed (somehow) and gets ready. She gets about four paces away from her car when the earth whooshes from under her and a frozen hand tackles her from below. She has slipped on some ice. She lay spread-eagled in the harsh cold ice. Then she looks up into the pale grey dawn sky. Little snowflakes, like bits of volcano ash, came dancing out of the heavens and flutter about her like celestial butterflies. For a few heartbeats, Cass considers (as she has many days) getting in her car, picking a random direction and just driving that way for hours. Leaving her job and all old things behind. She would start a new life. She smiles briefly. Maybe someday. She has too many bills right now dammit. 

And last nights little online excursion has cost her dearly. She bought the best Saint Laurent leather jacket ever, but God at what cost? Actually, Cass knew, the cost was "too much." But hey, she was a believer in "Look good, feel good." Which is true in a lot of ways. She feels very confident in the jacket, and she feels it was worth it for the little boost in self-esteem that she gets from wearing it. Hey, life is short right? Treat yourself. If she dies next week, the money she spent wouldn't matter. But, boy she could enjoy it now. She works hard for her money. So why not? Cass realizes she is laying there too long and now water is seeping into her clothes so it looks like she peed herself. Good thing Chris wasn't here (the guy she likes). She swears and decides to just take a taxi.

 Driving already stresses her out and with inclement weather and death-ice, it is simply too much to bear. Toto her little doggie stares forebodingly at her from the window. Toto was a Boston Terrier, unlike his namesake who was actually a Cairn Terrier. Also unlike the actual version, her Toto is a klepto who likes to steal her things and might actually be a psychopath. As soon as Cass left, Toto leaps into action. Some unknown force of nature or God-call bestirs Toto to run into Cass's room with a blinding flash. He promptly opens the sock drawer and makes off with the lion's share of them like a bandit (or canine sock pirate). But not before vigorously humping his favorite shoe, then he dashes off into the shadows. Once every fortnight, Cass avaunt upon her chest of drawers, and in mass confusion proclaim to the heavens "Where the HELL do my socks keep going!?!?"

 Ah. But Toto knew. Toto always knew. But only God knows where they are now and what Toto does with them. One of the great mysteries of the universe. ... God! Today was famously boring. Even for a Monday. She takes a taxi back and slumps into her bed as soon as her head hits the pillow. She begins to dream... She punches in the destination into her phone app and looks up. Her wool gloves aren't designed to resist moisture and the wet cold stabs at her fingertips. "I h-h-h-hate wi-inter." she rattles through chattering teeth. She didn't like this. Cass was from hot-as-hell New Mexico, but this winter was especially cold. The pale grey sky is darkening. The cool crisp air is like a damp blanket, caressing with cool little ghost fingers. Her black coat rustles as the nylon brushes against itself. Her two beanies desperately try to keep the heat in, and her head feels hot under her hair. Her nose goes numb and feels like it will fall off. There are probably ice cycles in her eyebrows. 

"Why is it so cold?" she whines to herself and stamps her little booted foot. Oh, thank God Almighty! Her ride is coming. Everything looks hazy and warped. Like looking at the floor of a swimming pool or seeing through a bubble. Her voice seems muffled and distorted. Even the colors are off. The greens are really verdant and the crimsons burn like the hellish embers of Tartarus. The headlights of the oncoming car flare like two white luminous spirit eyes, sunbursts and glares of the dreamscape. The dream vehicle screeches to a fierce stop and time seems to stand still. Cass feels oddly warm. DING! "Your ride is here". Thank you taxi app.The windows are too dark to look inside, Vantablack and mysterious. Cass feels fear at what she might find inside. Was this the modern day equivalent of the Boatman? Who has come to take her soul across the River Styx to the underworld? As Cass thinks about it, she would probably go to Hell. God saw what she and Billy Draper did behind that metalfest concert stadium. 

God saw her get that diet coke even though she asked for a water cup, and she even got a refill! She always had more than fifteen items when she went through the fifteen items or less line. Definitely Hell. The more she thought about it, the more Cass realized that she was kind of an a-hole. Apprehensive, a wave of fear ripples through her body – like when your foot falls asleep and you feel a million tiny pinpricks. That quickly passes. And then curiosity soon begins to take over. She thinks back to her childhood. Jenkins the bully was teasing her because she was too afraid to cross the brook to the other side near her home in Humilde, New Mexico. 

The shaky bunch of twigs that passed for a bridge did NOT look very stable. But all the boys had crossed it. "Haha! You can't cross it! You're just a girl! A gi-irl!" Jenkins said with his little red, ugly pig face. Still terrified, but now more peeved than fearful, Cass hiked up her dress and got a deadly angry look in her eyes. Jenkins stopped laughing. Sure as the sun sets in the West, Cassandrah G. Adara, crossed that rickety bridge and punched Jenkins right in his ugly pig-nose. Stupid boys. From that day forward, Cassandrah wouldn't let anyone look down on her. And whatever lay before her, she would overcome it. "I may not win, I may be afraid, but I will fight!" became her mantra. And she would overcome this. She took a deep breath, and opened the door...