No Time for Patience

“And with a green and yellow melancholy,
She sat like patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief.”

“51 years, nine months, and four days.”

“What? That can’t be right! Let me see…”

Helen handed her the book. “It’s right. Look, see? Here.” She pointed with her long, bony finger. Patience moved her lips as she read the offending passage for herself. There was no mistaking it: the potion would have to age for precisely 51 years, nine months, and four days before it could be put to use. She threw the book at the cat who was slinking around Helen’s baseboards. It yowled piteously and hid behind a tottering stack of books and papers.

“Hey! Be careful!” cried Helen. “That book is ancient!” She jumped from her seat at the warped wooden table and retrieved the book, cradling it in her arms like a wounded child. The cat hissed when she came near. She aimed a kick at it but missed, managing instead to topple the stack of books. The cat took off like a streak up the shadowed stairwell where it remained out of sight for the rest of the afternoon.

“What do we do now?” Patience sulked. “We don’t have 52 years to wait.”

“51 years, nine months, and four days.”

“Close enough,” Patience growled.

The two women sat in silence. The kettle began to whistle. Helen rose from the table once more and shuffled about the cramped space preparing their afternoon tea. She decided on chamomile–Patience might benefit from its calming effects. “I suppose we’ll just have to keep looking,” she said, half hoping she wouldn’t be heard. “We found this potion. Surely there must be another.”

“There is no other.” Patience drew in a short, sharp breath and released it slowly. “You know this as well as I do, Helen.”

She put down the kettle and turned. Patience was sitting with her head against the wall and her eyes closed. She suddenly looked so small and frail. It frightened her. She had always known that Patience was small, but her personality made her huge. One could only think of her as a giantess in spite of the physical evidence to the contrary. “Oh, Patience!” she exclaimed. “Why did you do it? You knew he was no good. He was wicked and traitorous! He stole all of your best magic and left you in this deplorable state of… of… mortality!” She spit the last word out like poison.

Patience sighed. “You’re right, of course,” she said. “I never should have taken him as my pupil. I knew it, even then, but I was helpless around him, hopeless! I did everything wrong, and now I’m going to die as a result of my own stupidity. But, you know something, Helen?”

Helen turned her back so her tears could fall unseen. “What?” she asked.

“The rightness eclipsed every mistake made along the way.”

 

***

This is me stepping completely outside my comfort zone and writing a small bit of fiction. I wrote it for, like, public consumption and everything.

There are rules that you have to follow and prompts and at first I didn’t think I could do it, but I did, and maybe they’ll accept me over on the speakeasy grid. We shall see. Either way, it was fun, and I’m glad I took a chance on something new. 🙂