A picture says a thousand words. Write them.
Mission: Write a story, a description, a poem, a metaphor, a
commentary, or a critique about this picture. Write something about this
picture.
Be sure to tag writeworld in
your block!
“This is an
inari shrine, right?” she asked.
“Oh, yes. Says here on the
brochure, that it is one of the oldest in the world. Dates back to 711.”
“Seven eleven?”
“The year, not the store.”
“Oh.” She snorted.
“What’s so special about Inari
shrines?”
“Their messengers are usually
kitsune. Didn’t you notice the statue of that one at the gate holding a key in
its mouth?”
Kitsune were magic fox spirits. Once they reached an age of more
than one hundred years, they grew an extra tail - anything up to nine - and
they acquired the ability to take on a human form. They were smart, loyal and
the older they were, the more skills they had.
She frowned at her friend. “A kitsune.”
“Yeah... what a coincidence,” she
tried to sound breezy.
“It is no coincidence at all.”
“I do not know what you mean-”
“You do! Is that why you suggested
we come here?”
She tried to look astonished and
failed. Her face fell. “I... miss him.”
“How? You were together for one
night and it was months ago.”
“Gah!” She waved her hands in the
air. “I know... and it was utterly amazing!”
“You are hopeless.” Her friend
sighed. “So tell me why we are really here.”
“I did some research after he told
me what he was.”
“Uh, huh.”
“The oldest kitsune are white or
gold and they can see or hear anything anywhere in the world.”
“Right. And assuming we actually
manage to find one, you want to ask them what?”
She bit her lip.
“Oh, heck, honey. You have got it
bad. You want to ask them where he is!”
She waved her hands in a
dismissive gesture. “Male kitsune are very rare; they must have heard of him.”
“Utterly freaking hopeless. I
mean, really... was he that good?”
Her friend blushed. “He was-” She
gave a whole body shiver. “He was that good! And I wanted to ask about
something-”
“Tell me you used protection!”
“Of course we did.”
“So what is this extra thing?”
“He... ah... how can I say it...
he scratched me.”
“I do not need to know your kinks-”
“It hasn’t really healed.”
“Jesus. We should be at the
hospital; not the temple.”
Over her friend’s shoulder, she
noticed a very old Japanese woman watching them. She was shamelessly listening
in to their conversation. Her skin was wrinkled and her hair was stark white.
Without saying a word, she grabbed
her friend’s shoulders and just spun her around. “Check that hair.”
She heard her suck in a breath. “White.”
She took the opportunity to peer
inside the neck of her friend’s shirt while she was distracted. “Crap! Look at
that. He really marked you up.”
The old woman started to shuffle
towards them. She was in traditional Japanese dress of a kimono and she was wearing
wooden zori; the thonged sandals. It took her a long time to reach them. They
were both so unsure of what to do that they just stood there and waited for her
to approach them.
The old woman took the hand of her
friend and tugged her along the path. “Come,” she said.
They went; it never occurred to
them not to.
The old woman folded the young
woman’s hand over so that her palm lay on top of her arm. She patted the top of
it with her other hand. “You came,” she said.
She was a little confused. “You
knew I was coming?”
Her English was perfect. “I see
all.”
The girl walking with the old
woman glanced back over her shoulder. The girls exchanged a glance pregnant
with meaning. See she mouthed at her.
Her friend looked down at the old
woman’s legs. Under the kimono she was sure she could see something moving. A
tail? Maybe nine of them? This was a crazy scheme but she knew her friend and
she knew she had genuinely made a connection with the guy she had spent a whole
night with. But the scratches worried her and the only way to understand why
they hadn’t healed was here.
And there was no way she was
leaving her here; not alone. She muttered some swear words under her breath and
then hurried after them.
Into the foxes’ den.
~~~~
© AM
Gray 2014
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