Scribblings

Just a collection of various stories I began with no intention to finish, or answers to writing prompts. Enjoy! Please visit my author page on FB! facebook.com/author.anrisaryn Also note, some of these may be removed later if I feel the urge to expand on them!

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63. The Adventures of Mildred and her Three Cats

         "Tina! Give me back that thread!"
         Mildred jumped from her seat spilling her tabby, George, on the floor. He mewed in confusion, but sat down and waited patiently as the woman chased after the mischevious tortoise-shell. While she had just entered her eight decade on earth, Mildred was far from slow. She had her grandchildren to thank for that.
         Scooping up the cat, who meowed loudly, though not angrily, she retrieved her blue-tinted thread and sat back down in her favorite chair.
         "Tina, why can't you be more like George or Barry?" she asked, rolling the thread back around the spool. Tina simply stared and waved her tail as if asking for the thread to be dropped again. Her response made Mildred roll her eyes.
         As the woman settled back down into her sewing rhythm, she began to relax again. It must have been the combination of the late hour and the cats on her lap, but very slowly she began to drift off.
         "Just a few minutes can't hurt," she reasoned. "Just a few..."
         She woke with a start to a loud banging on the front door. Blinking a few times, she sat up, causing Tina and Barry to hop off her lap. They decided to join George, who sat on the couch across the room.
         She jumped, hearing the loud banging again.
         "Alright! I'm coming," she said, making her way through the kitchen to the front entrance. She looked at the clock on the wall as she passed it in the hallway. "Who would be knocking at eleven o'clock at night?" she added to herself.
         She flicked on the porch light to see a darkly clad figure standing on the first step. She couldn't see the face, which was also partially due to the rainy skies.
         "Please let me in," the figure said. The voice was deep, but urgent. "I must speak with you."
         Confused, and none too trusting, she frowned. "What do you want? Are you a beggar?"
         The figure looked up. He was young and swarthy compared to her pale complexion. He appeared to be only about sixteen, but his eyes were much older.
         "Please, you must let me in," he insisted.
         Never one to let a young person stand in the rain, especially since it looked like he had no place to go, she obliged, but demanded to know what he wanted.
         "My name is Tiresias," he said. "There is something very important you must know."
         "Well?" Mildred demanded. "Spit it out."
         "A great evil comes from a distant land. There is but one that can stop it."
         "Have you been drinking too much, young man?" she said, crossing her arms.
         "Please, you must believe me! I have seen it!" Tiresias insisted, his dark eyes growing strangly white as he spoke. "There is a man...a dark man..."
         Suddenly, his eyes turned completely white as if someone had snatched the color right from them.
         "A vision!" he exclaimed. "He is coming! Only the one of three, creator of ten will save us!"
         "What? One of three, creator of ten? What are you talking about, young man?" Mildred was becoming frustrated. He seemed to be on the drugs or something. What was it they smoked these days? The dandelion? Or was it crab grass? Oh, who knows. The point was this boy was crazy.
         "You must not ignore my warning! I see the future. The one of three, creator of ten will be out savior. And you are that One."
         As if on signal, a loud crash echoed down the nearby street. The sound of New York City traffic seemed to explode. It was as if something had thrown all the cars ten miles from the center of Queens to her quiet street in Floral Park.
         "He is coming!" Tiresias screeched, grabbing his head.
         Without thinking, Mildred grabbed his wrist, causing him to return to normal so fast, he couldn't stand for a second. She scooped up Barry in her free arm and raced to the basement. She slammed the door shut just as Tina and George walked past.
         "God damn it!" she exclaimed, opening up the door and unceremoniously tossing the other two cats in after Barry.
         The crashing continued for a good ten minutes, then everything was eerily silence.
         "He has arrived," Tiresias whispered. "He is here."
         "And everything is up to me, apparently the one of three, creator of ten?"
         "And now, you understand," the boy said, seemingly melting into the darkness of her basement.
         "Hey, wait a second. You can't get out that way," she tried to explain. But the boy had somehow dissappeared even more mysteriously than he arrived.

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