Quoth the Raven: Inverness Tricked

Over at Terrible Minds, Chuck Wendig does a “flash fiction challenge” using this random story title generator. I gave it a spin and I’m actually really interested in the results! I’ll be posting a small fic once a week or so, nothing fancy, just going to post the title or the prompt and roll with it. You’re all welcome to play along or shoot me a prompt to add to my list of prompts and dates.

Today’s Prompt is:  Inverness Tricked

Quoth the Raven: Inverness Tricked

Inside the massive city it’s all brick and pavement. In some places the paved areas have worn away to show off the original cobblestone below. This adds charm to the area, but not enough yet, to add expense. It will take some gentrification for that to happen. The area defiantly has its charm, but you have to belong to really understand it. In one corner a woman with a cardinal red cap is offering up palm reading. The boy with jay blue hair is trying to light a smoke in the corner of the building behind her.

The person at the centre of it all is Inverness. She whips her cape about in a flourish of motion and allows it to flutter behind her in the wind. She seems to be impervious to the cold that is presently slowly sucking the life force from the tiny village to the south. To play with her is a dangerous game, but I’m largely a betting creature.

We’re both tricksters at heart. The fur of her gloves is soft and brown. She asks me if I want her to cast some stones and I decline as swiftly as she rebukes my offer to throw a crystal for her. The thing about divination is that it’s as much dependant on the source as it is the message and if you cannot trust someone then it is worthless.

“Todd’s in town.” I mention as we sit by the fountain. I play with my crystals and she with her stones.

“I’ve noticed. Do you think he’d like a visit?”

“Not from you.”

Inverness snorts. “Aren’t we full of ourselves today?”

“Pride is more of a virtue than a sin these days, don’t you think?”

We sit in silence and she gets up to leave. I know where she is going. There is no need to follow.

They say all of these things about revenge; I don’t find any of it particularly true. It’s like feeding on a carcass, even if it’s warm or cold. The next day, however, I notice that Todd has very nice, soft looking gloves.

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Filed under Bits and Pieces, Writing

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