Furious Fiction February

Furious Fiction February

This month I’m bringing you something pretty special. With Gretchen’s (Mis)Adventures clogging my brain space, the February prompts for AWC’s monthly competition lent itself to something a little… witchy.

And after putting this little story together I decided it would do well as the opening passage for episode 2! That’s right, as I type this I’m around halfway through an episode filled with hair shenanigans, and Ewan makes an appearance later on in the story.

So without further ado…

THIS MONTH’S CRITERIA

  • Your story must include a character who’s a GUARD.
  • Your story must include the words NARROW, GOLDEN, LEATHERY and GLOSSY.
  • Your story’s first and last sentences must each contain just TWO WORDS.

‘A Hairy Dispute’

“She’s lying!” Spittle flew from Ewan’s mouth. “She promised that vile concoction would have my hair grown back in no time.”

He waggled a finger over the guard’s shoulder and Gretchen guffawed.

“Your hair grew back, buddy. You never specified where you wanted it.” 

“Enough.” The guard held up his hands in the close confines of the narrow alleyway. “This is a matter for the magistrate. Move along.”

“Tell that dreadful hag to give me my money back before I talk to the sheriff about this.” Ewan scratched at a tuft of hair poking through his collar and Gretchen smothered a giggle. 

“You brought a hair potion off the shelf for a couple of coins. You want to be a cheapskate with beauty products? After accusing me of fleecing you when I offered to brew something specific? You deserve all the unwanted hair you get.”

“Ah ha!” Ewan clapped his hands. “You heard that, didn’t you? I’ll be calling you as a witness to that confession. She’ll be chased out of this city once I’m through with her.”

Ewan spun on his heel to march out to the market square. The guard turned to Gretchen, his leathery face creased in a toothy grin. 

“It’s all anyone’s been talking about for weeks. He’s the laughingstock of the marketplace.” The guard clapped her on the shoulder. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”

Gretchen snickered and pulled a vial from her pouch.

“Time to make amends, I guess.”

She sidled past the guard to her stall and stood on her soapbox to get a better vantage of the crowd.

“Listen up, folks.” She held the bottle aloft which sparkled golden in the afternoon sun. “Today’s special offer is my famous ‘de-hair’ potion. Tired of all that back hair? Bikini line chafing? This is the solution you’ve all been waiting for. All for a low price of three silver coins.”

A few people stopped to stare, one guy scratching his rear end. She glimpsed Ewan’s glossy scalp as he stormed over and coughed to hide a smirk.

“You’ll never see a price like this again, and I have one dose left. With ingredients from the far-flung reaches of the realm, some only available a few months a year, it will be some time before I can prepare another batch.”

Ewan elbowed past the onlookers and snatched the bottle from Gretchen’s hand.

“Hey! You plan on paying for that?” Gretchen put her hands on her hips and glared.

“Just taking what I’m owed.” Ewan glowered at the bystanders and turned his nose in the air as he marched off.

The crowd dispersed with animated whispers and Gretchen dusted off her hands, whistling as she packed up her stall. 

“What was that all about?” The guard leaned against an adjoining booth with a twinkle in his eye.

“Ah.” Gretchen tapped her nose and winked. “Wait until you see what happens to his eyebrows.” 

The guard shook his head and chuckled. “Poetic justice.”

I hope you enjoyed this month’s story.

And encourage everyone at home to play along. You can sign up to the Furious Fiction club here so you’ll never miss any of the action.

You can check check out last month’s entry here.

*Before you go*

If you’d like to see the whole story, all you have to do is fill in the contact form and ask for a copy, and I’ll send it, free of charge. No strings attached. As soon as it comes off the press I’ll send you a link to download the whole thing.

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