Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Life, or Something Like It

Thkaa stared down at the woman curled up on the pile of skins and furs that served as her bed. She was lying still, staring at the wall calmly, her brown eyes showing no emotion as Thkaa moved around the room, gathering the things she would need. Most women who came to her were terrified, quivering with fear and constantly looking to her for reassurance. This one hadnt said a word since she first stepped in, and her face had remained expressionless throughout. Thkaa heated the potion in a corner, slowly adding the poppy that would put her to sleep, so she wouldnt feel the pain.

The sharp knife caught the light and the woman on the bed turned and stared at it, her eyes becoming colder as she watched Thkaa heat it. Feeling her gaze Thkaa looked up.

"It wont hurt", Thkaa assured her softly, "You wont feel a thing".

The womans eyes narrowed, and a small bitter smile twisted her lips.
"What of my child? Can you promise him the same?"

Thkaa flushed. Killing children before they took their first breath wasnt why she had become a healer.
"You dont have to do it. You could keep the child. He'll be healthy and strong, and you..." Thkaa's voice trailed off as the woman laughed harshly.

"No".

Their eyes met, the solid brown of hers glimmered and suddenly Thkaa understood.

"His father."

It wasnt a question. In her eyes Thkaa could see, see the oceans that the man had crossed to leave her, the way he had left and her news, the bitter words he had spat at her before he left her to do this alone. She could see the richness of the life he had left for, and it stood in stark contrast to the faded, tired colours this woman wore now.

Thkaa handed her the cup. The womans eyes turned cold again, and she swallowed the potion in one gulp. Her eyes drifted shut and her fingers caressed the swell of her stomach as the potion took hold of her. Thkaa picked up the knife, and laid her fingers on the womans skin. For a moment she could hear a child laughing. It stopped abruptly as she brought the knife down.

8 comments:

Kiro said...

Boooo

TheDragon said...

http://khat-mal.blogspot.com/2006/10/you-are-not-my-type.html

Gaimon. See this.

MinCat said...

lol how BIrE is it that you ar rdirecting ppl to someone i know very well? also if anyone was wonderinf es im drubk and im tlaking about bizarreness of directing ppl to khatmal. woo. alchollll anf louch political discussiona dn getting direb n home. driven home hehehehehehehehehehehee lost it hehehehehe

Anonymous said...

so now they're forming a society of poor typists. of course you would find such things, commander. however, you are hardly Shaolin. yet, it must feel good to have some sympathizers.

Saattvic said...

sadist...

TheDragon said...

Who ME?

Saattvic said...

ya you.

TheDragon said...

Err Why pray?