1:07 AMC
"You're A Wolf" - Sea Wolf

Old Gypsy Woman

It's hot out here, I thought as I walked down the road. Paris, my city. She was alive. I bet even if we humans didn't exist anymore this city would never die. The pavement would keep pounding it's usual drone. I walked with no real purpose. I would end up in one of my haunts anyway, no matter in which direction I went. The night was already on me but that didn't make the heat go away. Or my restlessness. It's been this way for a while. Like some sense of impending doom lied heavily on my shoulders. I was afraid to stay too long at home. After a few hours I knew I'd hear her whisper again, her begging. But what could I do? Staying awake all night and wandering the city like a brooding vampire, what good did it do me? By the time the sun rises, no matter how hard I fight, my lids will get heavy and my nightmares will torment me. That's all my life is made of now. Wandering and wondering. Wondering what my days would've been like without the constant reminder that I could've done something different. "'Don't let it happen! Don't let them take me!" I ran my fingers through my hair mostly just to try and see if I could claw the voices out. It never worked though, no matter how hard I dug. I stared at my feet as I walked the cobble stone. One foot in front of the other. "Don't--" SMACK! I caught the figure before she could fall backward. Startled at my own thoughtlessness, I loosened my grip and aplogized quickly, the words nearly slurring together:

"Je suis désolé!"
"Mon Dieu!"

The old woman I crashed into grabbed my hands immediately and stared at me as though she should be the one apologizing. I wondered what my face must've looked like to her. I hadn't slept in thirty-five hours and my only meal wasn't a good one; sweet bread with the most caffiene riddled coffee I could find. Coming back from my flashback I looked back at the old woman and tried helplessly to free my hands from hers, uncomfortable with the closeness and the way she kept inspecting my face.

"Jeune homme," placing her hand on her heart, "a great weariness follows you." She said still searching my face. "What torments you so, child? You look as though you have the weight of a thousand years on your shoulders."

I stared at her flabbergasted, not comprehending what she was saying. Her peppered hair was pulled into a tight bun with small curls sticking out in front of her ears like horns. Her clothes flowed about her and her long earrings jingled with every minute movement she made. Her knobby fingers reached for mine again but I thrust them into my pockets before she could touch them.

"Madame, pardon, I can not stay here. I must go." I tried to circle around her but her fingers wound around my upper arm to stop me. I looked down at them and then at her as if to tell her, you can let go now but the look did not register. She merely nodded her head as if some little spirit were whispering in her ear.

"Oui, oui," she continued, "a great shadow haunts you, child. Sorrow is your companion. Do not let it haunt you, child! Do not! It will be the death of you. Your mind can take no more punishment and your body, well..." she trailed away, looking me up and down with a shrug.

I grabbed her frail hand, annoyed beyong all human capacity, and lowered it slowly. "Mademoiselle, I am flattered by your concern but please, I must go now." I went on, turning around to catch a fleeting glance of her reaching out to stop me again. Now from afar I could see that her image just oozed gypsy. Unbelievable. I thought. I looked forward and felt that same little lingering like she was still on my tail. I turned to make sure but found the alley empty. She disappeared like a ghost at cock crow. I stared back down at my dragging feet, my hands still in my pockets, the perfect picture of walking sorrow, until I finally reached my destination: Salon de Eva. I opened the metal alley door and walked into a bricked in hallway. At the end stood a hefty man in decked out in black slacks and simple black tee. I greeted him with a solemn nod to which he answered with a pat on the shoulder as he opened the door to a dimly lit lounge area. I chose a dark corner to sit in and was immediately brought a bottle of my favourite wine and a glass. Everyone knew me here already. This was my city, my bar, my table, my wine. So constant was I that they would probably feel absence if ever I died. This little thought brought me a small smidge of hope. That someone would actually miss me. A painful smile spread across my face. It felt out of place, awkward; I couldn't remember how long it had been since those muscles worked. With a relieving sigh I uncorked the bottle, poured, and drank. The wine warmed me to the core working beautifully in tune with the soft, drawling music that flowed out the speakers.

After finishing more than two thirds of the bottle, confident that it had done it's duty, I paid my drink, dragged the entire bottle off the table, and walked out. The night air caught me off guard, what with the air conditioner I had forgotten how hot it was out here. I honestly thought I would start sweating with the first step. I dragged my feet to make them move and looked forward at the dark alley. I clicked my tongue when I saw that annoying little gypsy waiting there. I could've sworn she had disappeared earlier. Defeated, I walked forward to met her.

"Jeune homme," she whispered as she walked beside me, "I am worried --"

"Madame, I am worried as well. This old shadow keeps pestering me. I can't get rid of it!" I laughed, throwing my hands up. She disregarded my obvious insult and continued,

"Your life, monsieur, it is slipping through your fingers like sand. An ancient evil awaits your soul's departure. You can not continue on like this otherwise she will have her way! Please for your sake, listen to me words." Hoping to rid myself of her quickly, I stopped and turned to face her.

"Très bien!" I yelled, "Go ahead, speak, say something, tell me your worries so that you may save me from mine!" She only faintly flinched at my outburst and spoke,

"I can save you from this torment but you must follow my directions precisely. If not there will be no hope for you. She will take your soul and devour it for her fury is grand." She waited to let the words sink before speaking again, "Before you get home buy two candles, a bottle of honey, ONE wine rose, and this," she reached for my hand holding the bottle, "this, do not finish it. Keep it! Light one candle in your bedroom and recite these words..." she recited what sounded like a poem. She reached for her satchel and brought out a pen and pad and began scribbling frantically, then handed me the paper. Just to humor her, I pretended to read it and stuffed it in my pocket. Looking back at her I saw the fear in her eyes like whatever she was doing for me would haunt her for years. I chuckled. "Do not laugh!" she screamed. "This is of the utmost importance! Take the rose, place it on a crystal bowl and smother it in honey. Light the contents afire until all is destroyed. It is an offering. The wine, drink some, refill your mouth and spray it on the altar twice. Do all this again in another room and when finishi--"

I let out an exasperated sigh, grabbed her by the shoulders, kissed her cheeks and apologized. "Forgive me, but I can not do this witchcraft. I am not a witch nor do I believe in your methods. I believe in nothing. Here," I pushed the bottle toward her, "you take the bottle, you make the arrangements, the altar, and please, for all that is sane and well, leave me and my soul alone. Where EVER it goes, I promise, it will not be there to invoke your worry." She took the bottle reluctantly, downed a small sip and sprayed it at me. I could've choked the damn words from the old hag's mouth!

"Assez!" I screamed, wiping the wine from my face. I took the bottle threw it against the stone wall, feeling lighter with the tinkling of music the shards made, then glowered at her, "I've enough of your meddling and will have nothing to do with your witchery! You speak of hovering and haunting shadows but the only one I feel is yours! Leave me alone and worry not about whether my soul is snatched or not! Besides, it would be a blessing if it happened NOW just to save me from YOU!" My anger spent, I stalked away from the annoying gypsy, hoping like hell that I was walking alone.

Finally reaching home at dawn, too tired to change my wine stained clothes, I tumbled onto my couch and fell into a dreamless sleep. The first in years. I woke up at dusk with my face smothered into the crack where the top and bottom cushions met. I looked around at my dark living room and heard the faint whispers of my departing torment along with a strange scent. Almost like a sweet perfume. Unable to resist my body's needs, I got up slowly, dizzy with sleep to relieve them. In the darkness a small shuffle startled me. Turning quickly to the source of the noise I found that my window had been open. I walked to it and found a small hump of rubbish on the sill. I looked around suspiciously, trying in vain to remember what had happened the night before. I grabbed it to inspect and felt my fingers stick together. "Ugh!" I threw the thing out and went on to the bathroom. Tired of the filth and with no other alternative, I decided to shower in hopes of cleansing the shroud over last night's happenings. Bending forward to gather my clothing I noticed the red stains all over my shirt. I don't remember fighting anyone, I thought stupidly until finally remembering the gypsy. "Oui!," I said, "the old braud sprayed me with wine!"

This flow of recalled images gave me a small tinge of fear. I ran out the bathroom, to the window and looked below. The burnt honey-covered heap lay there still, one story below in all its withered glory confirming that yesternight's happenings were not a dream.

"Mon Dieu!"

Author's note:

Dude, it's like 3:28 in the morning. From the starting time you can see that I've been writing this damn thing for over two hours. To be honest with you, I was making it up as I went but I am tired now and my body aches. I hope you enjoyed this horrible little peice of fiction and forgive me for not finishing. Maybe someday I will. I just wanted to write a peice with French in it. I'm not bad for a Mexican. Lol. Also, the song compelled me to write something with a gypsy. I've heard theories of their incredible persistance and annoyance but I'm still enthralled with them... She'll probably reappear in another story but for now, she stays here. I'm off now. I'll grammar and spell check later. I'm too tired to do it now. Take care.

i remain respectfully yours, etc, etc.

Last edited: Sun. 05. 24. 09 @ 1:48 AMC

Fiction: 05/23/09 | Posted By: blu moon | 0 comments | Personal