Saturday 11 February 2006

Uh oh. Found out!

A van pulls up at the back of the house just as I'm about to land on the lawn, sans broom. I hover near the top of the cherry tree to ensure the driver doesn't see me when he gets out.

Oh Christ! It's Pete, my sexy neighbour. How unfortunately distracting.

My concentration now lost, I don't quite manage to stifle a gasp of surprise as my telekinetic wings fade and I fall out of the sky. Pete looks up as I plummet towards him.

"What the fuck...?" is his shocked exclamation as I smack down hard on to the tarmac in front of him.

"Ow. Shit! Fuck! Wank! Owwww..."

Then he recognises me and steps closer. "Are you all right, mate?" he asks hesitantly. "Where the Hell did you come from?"

Oh fuck. I look up to see Pete standing over me. Panic sets in and I look around wildly, desperately seeking inspiration for a reason how I came to be in a heap at his feet. "Uhh... I fell off the garage roof?" I finally mumble, unconvincingly. Pete just looks at me with disbelief.

"I don't think so" he says. "You're in the middle of the road, miles away from the garage. Here, let me help you up" and he reaches toward me.

I grab his hand. My first physical contact with him! His hand feels warm and manly and it makes me go all tingly. Mmmmm...

"Ow, fuck!" I spit again as he pulls me up. My hands and arms are covered in cuts and scrapes and blood is smeared all over them. There's a big hole in the knee of my jeans, the edges of which are soaking up the blood from the cuts and gouges there.

Hang on. My feet aren't connected to the ground! I'm towering over Pete and slowly drifting to the right. This isn't right. The look on Pete's face is a picture: slack jaw and wide eyes. Shit! I start thrashing wildly in mid-air then gravity kicks in and I fall at his feet again, but this time I manage to land on my feet.

Pete is staring at me with astonishment. "How the Hell did you do that?"

"Um. Do what?" I ask sheepishly, my eyes darting about to see if anyone else was around who might have seen my little gravitic transgression.

"You're not like an X-Man or something, are you?" he eventually asks, still staring at me.

"No. No, nothing like that. Well, a bit, I suppose" and I resign myself to the fact that I won't be able to explain this away satisfactorily. "I'm a witch. Or warlock. Whichever suits you best. Not a wizard, though. Definitely not!"

"Fuck."

"I'm not very good at it yet. The whole flying without a broom malarkey - as you've just witnessed."

"Yeah."

At this point there is an interminable silence that seems to go on for hours but which probably only lasted about five seconds.

"Uh... I don't suppose you could keep this to yourself, could you?" I ask, plaintively. "My life'll be Hell if anyone finds out. Well, if the wrong people found out."

"What? Oh. Oh, OK. No one'd believe me anyway. Fuckin' Hell!" Pete stares a bit more, blinks, then a grin appears. "So. What else can you do?"

"What else?" My mind suddenly goes blank. "Umm..." Still blank. "Umm..." Ooh, here we go! "Well, I can walk in the rain and not get wet. Or hardly get wet. Uh... Oh! I can make things revert to what they used to be."

Pete now looks blank. "What?"

"You know. Like stones. I can make a stone revert to lava, or a plank of wood revert to a tree. That sort of thing. It's very difficult, though."

"Can you do something now?"

"What? Wasn't the whole gravity disobeying enough?"

"Oh, come on."

"Oh, OK." I think for a bit then hold out my hand, palm upwards, concentrating intently. "I can usually do this really easily but with you here (being all sexy and gorgeous) I'm a bit distracted. Ooh, here we go..." A small green flame appears a centimeter or so above my palm. It flickers for a bit then stabilises into a steadily burning, 10cm flame.

"Wow!" Pete leans in closer to feel the heat and his fingers brush up against mine.

A shock like electricity jolts through my hand and into my whole body. The flame explodes into a fireball that blasts upwards into the evening sky leaving a trail of incandescence behind it.




Bugger.






Forgetting all that for a moment: I've managed to get a hit counter. Only it looks a bit pathetic as it shows one hit. Me.

8 comments:

  1. 3 now, including us. Wonder who the other was?

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  2. Oh, that was me. I had to go back in to correct a spelling (no pun intended) mistake.

    Crikey! It's up to 36 now.

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  3. That was the best story ever!

    I loved it!

    PS: Do you mind if I add you as a link to my blog? I figure I'd ask since the last person I linked ask not to be linked b/c he only wanted "certain" people reading his stuff.

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  4. RIP Pete. I'm sure he will be missed. I wonder whether I could learn the gravity defying thing. I'm getting annoyed with my bra...

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  5. Brianne: How VERY dare you! Story? Story? It's real life! But I'm glad you liked it :)
    And of course you may link me - I'd be honoured.

    M'Lady: Oh, he didn't die. But he will be missed - he's moving away. Can't imagine why...

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  6. What a great story, you've got me hooked.
    I'll bung in a link soon. I'm new to this, and to be honest a bit the worse for drink, ( blame the trifle )so it'll probably go willy up.

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  7. Well, your hit counter looks healthy now at 620.

    I'm sorry Pete couldn't take the heat.

    Telekinetic wings sound cool.

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  8. see, now I'm pretty sure I posted a comment here the other night and now its gone. Too bad about Pete by the way.
    Your stories are...inexplicable!

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