Fiction - The Meeting

They met at a bookshop.

He had been looking at a book and debating with himself whether he was going to buy it or not. She had overhead. It was one of her favourite books. She spruiked it.

This lead to a brief discussion regarding their tastes in books, to see if they intersected anywhere. Could he trust her recommendation or not? What if she just read shit books? Similarities were discovered. He decided to buy the book. Just as they were about to part ways, he asked if she wanted to go get a coffee with him.

They talked more books, movies and music over a light lunch, sometimes agreeing, sometimes rubbishing each other’s choices with much shaking of head, tsking and theatrical gesturing.

She had planned to go out later that night to see a band and asked him if he wanted to come too? He said yes.

They met up for dinner first. They talked so much they missed the first support act. She always liked to hear the support acts. A way of finding new bands she might like.

They met up with some people he knew. Not by intention. He had mentioned the girl he’d met that day and his friends decided to show up and check her out. They teased him and told her all kinds of embarrassing stories about things he’d done. They had difficulty escaping them at the end of the night.

They went back to her place for coffee.

They sat up all night on the couch talking. She put on her favourite movie that she had been telling him about. He made gentle smartarse comments and picked the plot to pieces. She told him he had no romance in his soul. He kissed her.

They talked about their families and where they grew up. At around 4 am she fell asleep resting in his arms. He stayed awake and watched her while she slept.

A friend knocking at the door woke them at about 8 am. She and the friend had originally planned to go out for breakfast. After receipt of some giggling and teasing looks from the friend, it was decided they would all three go out for breakfast. More friend imparted embarrassing stories were shared, to even the balance for the previous evening, much to his amusement.

This is probably terrible unrealistic. I've never met anybody this way. I've not had much in the way of relationships or dating etc.

My first boyfriend was going to university with one of my elder sisters. They organised a mixed team to play Broomball and needed females, so my sister drafted me. He started inviting me out and we were seeing each other for a while. I was confused because at the three month mark he had never touched me. I ended up asking him to kiss me.

The second man I went out with used to come into the business I worked at and one day invited me to the races.

Apart from that there are a couple of incidents when I was at parties and ... um ... drank too much. I don't think I would ever (sober) accept a dinner invitation from a complete stranger. It's always been people my family knew or friends knew.

Anthropological Wizard

One of the other stories that I never wrote was about an Anthropological Wizard who collected specimens, downloaded their memories and then displayed them in static-fields like especially lifelike statues.

The display spells last longer than the wizard by a few millennia.

In the meantime, the displays that survived were worshipped as gods and the belief generated over the course of many generations infuses the frozen people with powers as if they were living avatars.

The story starts when the display shorts out and the small group left have to deal with their new status in an unknown world, haunted by centuries of knowledge gained by osmosis.

I was making one lowly clerk the Goddess of Little Accidents, which encompasses accidental pregnancies, miscarriages, lost keys, bad luck etc.

Though none of the people wanted to offend her, they didn’t want to come near her either. The reject goddess amongst the cooler and prettier gods of war and fertility and agriculture.

I kind of like the idea of the goddess of fertility being a librarian or high powered executive bewildered and uncomfortable with her knew status and embarrassed at the flowers that spring up in her footsteps where ever she goes.

They would automaticially become leader of their various churches/temples.

Couldn't decide what happened next

There is no more of Tash.
Not as such.
Perhaps when I get a computer at home I will add to this.

She does get her hand chopped off.

In one variation she staggers off bleeding and ends up in a temple to the god of music. The devotees of the temple look after her, since she wasn't struck down for bleeding all over the altar and she ends up being involved in the order. They take her presence as some kind of sign, as an artifact has gone missing and they want to get it back. Tash entertains herself during her convalescence mildly corrupting the young monks by selling them nudee cartoons of a sexual nature for spare cash.

But then my lack of ability to come up with an actual storyline kind of lets me down.

In another she ends up working in a spyish/mercenaryish capacity for the crown and proceeds to get more limbs/digits lopped of on her adventures. A new body part for every adventure.

And then the whole thing took a turn around and I had this other idea of starting a story based on the premise that she is a peasantish type person who has been sent on a mission to retrieve a stolen object. Is told that it is vitally important etc etc etc, but they are just talking it up because, you know, she is just a peasant and you have to make 'them' understand that it is important cause they are lazy etc - nobility talking down to the people and of course it turns out not to be particularly important at all.

So she goes through hell and back thinking she is doing some world shatteringly important job and then when she gets back and barely even remember sending her.

All the fantasy novels I read are such big epic stories.
I thought it might be fun to have a little story.

I was going to have a dragon in it.
But the dragons were going to be about human sized and could transform into humans - to make nicking stuff easier - and dog like personalities.

Part Eight

Life was getting complicated, thought Tash as she started her next song. The Captain had requested “Laster”.

Laster was a song in honour of the God of Justice. It mainly consisted of the innocent always having a good law abiding life and the guilty being punished. It was not the kind of song Tash felt comfortable singing just at the moment. It was another one of those songs that children loved, if you get my drift, because the innocent don’t really come into it much.

Captain Jakiel was difficult to flirt with too. Captain Jakiel is not the prettiest man. He had presumably led a hard life. His nose had been broken, possibly more than once. He had a nasty scar running down one side of his face and he was a difficult man to fool. His eyes seemed to see right through her. It was very uncomfortable.

If that wasn’t bad enough, Freda had just turned up. She seemed upset.

“That haunting idea sounded so good, but it didn’t work out”, she said.
Tash kept on singing and tried to ignore her.
“I went to this really nice house on Church Street. I thought that people in a nice house would be easier to scare. I went into the kitchen and clinked chains and howled at the cook, but she didn’t seem to see me. I really tried but I couldn’t do it.” Freda sniffed and looked about to cry. “And then the children came in and one of them could see me but he wasn’t scared. He just kept on trying to lift up my skirt and made the most disgusting suggestions. The whole thing was a complete disaster” said Freda and burst into tears on approximately where Tash’s shoulder was.

Tash went into an instrumental and tried to whisper to Freda without moving her lips.

“Get off you made bitch. I am in deep shit and if I start talking to you they’ll think I’m a total loony and will probably lock me up.”

Freda lapsed into hysterics.

Tash had never realised how difficult it was to keep in time with ah hysterical ghost screaming at her. Especially when she was so out of practice.

“… and stop playing that blasted guitar when I’m talking to you” shrieked Freda and tried to take the guitar off Tash.

The children started to disperse when Tash stopped playing. They had come to the decision that Tash was a fruitcake and they wanted to be a safe distance away. Captain Jakiel and Lieutenant Rowan came forward and were just about to speak when Tash’s guitar went flying.

“That’s it. I’ve had enough” yelled Tash, “Freda go away. I don’t want to see you again. You are a pain in the arse and I do not have time for your hysterics right now.”

Tash went to pick up her stolen guitar which was luckily unharmed.

“Well if that’s the way you feel” sniffed Freda.
“It is” said Tash.
“Well then … I’m going.” Said Freda huffily.
“Good” said Tash.
“Fine” said Freda.
“Good riddance” muttered Tash and turned back to the Captain.
Well? What are you looking at?” she said wrathfully.
“I have no idea.” Said the Captain.
This is so humiliating, thought Tash. What am I going to do now?
She cleared her throat awkwardly, when in doubt … try the unexpected – truth. Maybe they will think I am too mad to be a pickpocket?
“I’ve had this ghost hanging around”, she explained. “I may have inadvertently suggested she give haunting a try. She turned up just now. Apparently it didn’t work out too well. Only one little boy could see her and he just made sordid suggestions and kept trying to lookup her skirt. She was a little upset. I know I look like a complete idiot, but anyway, we had a small argument and hopefully she won’t come back. She was really annoying.”

Tash had never been in a situation quite like this before. Trying to imagine what they might be thinking was making her want to giggle.

“I’m sorry. You must think I am a lunatic”, she said as sincerely as she could, “but sorry. I am foisting my problems on you. We don’t even know each other. My name is Morgan” she said holding out her hand to shake. “Did you want to speak to me about something?”

“My purse is missing and I thought you might know something about it”, said Captain Jakiel flatly, crossing his arms and looking dour.

“Me? Sorry gentlemen. I’d love to help, but I’m afraid I didn’t see a thing.”
Tash smiled at them as innocently as she could, chanting over and over in her head ‘I am a law abiding citizen. Nothing to see here.’

Tash was just about to launch into a long story about having just arrived et cetera when Freda materialised on the roof top.

“Natashia, my dear. I believe you dropped this. Catch.”
Tash automatically stretched out her hand … and caught Captain Jakiel’s purse.
Tash tried to pry Captain Jakiel’s fingers from her wrist as he dragged her behind him in the direction of the city watch house.

Part Seven

Well … she was clean. She smelt good and she looked particularly colourful if she did say so herself. Now she just needed somewhere to sleep.

Tash had decided to disguise herself as a minstrel on the reasoning that nobody would expect the most wanted person in the city to stroll about in a bright yellow coat, blue hat and singing loudly. Her haircut was a bit of a mess, but it was so orange probably nobody would really notice.

Now what she wanted was a middle class type bar. More of a merchants and mercenaries inn. Tash smiled to herself contemplating the potential comforts soon to be available to her. Though it would mean omitting some of the bawdier. Stick to more dull and difficult. Ballads of bravery and lost loves etc. Tash’s preference was more for songs sung by drunk sailors and perverts, but one must adapt to ones environment. She was pretty sure they would all come back to her quickly. Her father had beat them well into her.

She continued down the main road of the city trying to look like a newcomer. It wasn’t difficult. She didn’t venture into this area during daylight often. She stopped to look at shops and bought some flowers. She tucked a bright orange one into her blue hat. Very jaunty.

A small boy with only one hand begged for charity and received some. The boy’s hand had been removed after being caught picking pockets about three years ago. He had worked as an informer for the thieves guild ever since. Tash felt sure he hadn’t recognised her.

She walked pas the guards as unconcernedly as she could and continued looking for a suitable tavern. She wanted a relaxed, but profitable looking place. She vague remembered a place called “The Pink Dragon” which she and her father had sung at once when she was about seven. She had quite liked it there. The innkeeper’s daughter had been about her age and they’d gotten on well together. A nice girl. A bit slow, but good natured. It was a good idea to be on good terms with ones landlord and if they remembered her from then, they wouldn’t connect her with the rogue thief.

For now she was safe.
Sort of.

Tash looked up at the sky. It was a beautiful day. The sky a bright blue with one lone puffy white cloud floating past. The sun was shining. The air didn’t smell to bad. It was possible she could even hear a bird singing, though not probable. She looked around for the bird, curious and ran into somebody.

Tash backed up and was about to give the great lug a piece of her mind when she saw who she’d run into. Standing in front of her was an annoyed looking Captain of the Guards. Captain Jakiel. Not reputed to be a very nice man.

“I’m terribly sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. This being such a lovely day and all”, she said with a sunny smile. She presented him with one of her flowers with a bow and continued on around him.

Captain Jakiel’s companion laughed and caught the flower the Captain tossed away.

“Well that’s something you don’t see everyday. One smile and she was putty in your hands, Captain”

“Lieutenant, do you want to live on soup for the rest of your life?” said Jakiel.
“No Captain. Sorry Captain”, said Rowan meekly.
Captain Jakiel glanced back as he started forward again, but then stopped abruptly.
“That mongrel bitch stole my purse. Come on Lieutenant. After her. I am going to chop her hand off personally.”

Tash had stolen the purse purely on reflex and had not found anyway to put it back once she had realised who it belonged too. She was a bit too memorable to fade away and her disguise relied on being in the public eye. Habit was a terrible weakness sometimes.

If she ran away and they found her they would not expect to find the purse on her, but if they caught her straight away and they didn’t find the purse they may think that perhaps somebody else had stolen it earlier and they had only just noticed now.

She ducked into an alley and discretely tossed it up on the nearest roof. Back out on the street again she pulled up a crate, sat down and tuned her guitar. She’d been hoping to find a quiet corner and get some practice in, but this wasn’t quite what she’d had in mind. Captain Jakiel and Rowan ran past just as she started to sing a song for some children about a girl who had been turned into a bird.

They skidded to a halt and the younger one stared. Tash smiled and nodded greetings to them, hoping the nervous sweat wasn’t too obvious. It was a nice warm day after all.

Tash saw the younger one say something to the Captain and hoped like hell they would leave. She continued singing. She was up to the bit wear the handsome prince in disguise kills the evil witch. The children loved it. Kids were bloodthirsty little beasts. They were still there.

She’d hate to play cards with that man.

Tash finished the song with a flourish. The children begged for another. Going with the saying that offence was the best form of defence Tash fluttered her eyelashes at the Captain and asked if he had any requests.

Part Six

Tash yawned and rested her head on the table, vaguely thinking things like ‘aaaaaaarrrrrrrggggghhh’ and ‘I’m dyiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnngggggg. I’m sooooooooo tiiiiiiiired’.

Tash had been awake and running for the last forty-eight hours. Her venture into royal thievery had not worked out. Prince Joshua had obviously given a good description of her, because not only were the palace guards after her, but also the city watch, customs, lackeys, courtiers, and members of the public. Lots of members of public. You name it, they were looking for her. It was lucky she didn’t have any friends, otherwise she would feel really betrayed. She’d been forced to hide in an empty barrel in the middle of a dump. Only problem was she hadn’t been able to stay there for long either because the Thieves Guild were after her as well. It seems the King had suggested it was a good idea for the thief to be produced, or else ...

Tash was not having a good day.

Still it was not all bad. As everyone was already after her she didn’t have to worry about sneaking around when she was nicking stuff. Everybody seemed to know what she looked like already, so she had been on a bit of a snatch and grab rampage. There were posters of her all over the city and a reward offered.

During her travels Tash had already decided on her next move. She had nicked all the things required. All she needed now was to find a place to stay for a couple of hours to assume her new identity. It had to be somewhere with water, so that she could rinse the dye out. Tash rested her head on her fist as she considered possibilities.

“Hey. That’s that thief they’re offering a reward for”, yelled a large unshaven drunk.

“Oh bugger.”

Tash heaved the table into her new devotee, leapt over the bar – hitting the barman in the head with a bottle – and raced up the stairs. She ducked into the first room she came to. Comatose occupant of bed snored on oblivious as she opened his window, leapt for the gutter and swung herself up onto the roof.

She made for the river front by a roundabout route thanking human kinds lack of organisation and narrow alleyways. Tash knew of a house that belonged to a hooker called Lolly. Lolly was currently entertaining a client in his home and would be gone for the next couple of days. Lolly’s friend Kitty was staying there. Kitty slept like a log, so if Tash was quiet she should be able to cut and dye her hair without disturbing her. No one would come visit this time of day because Kitty had a very nasty temper and it would be more than their life was worth to wake her up after a hard nights work.

Tash crept in through the front door. Kitty was indeed fast asleep and not a pretty sight. The first thing she was going to do after donning he disguise was sleep for a week. Tash went into the bathroom and gently closed the door after herself. She took the scissors out of her bag and stood in front of the mirror.

“Goodbye Tash. Hello Morgan”, whispered Tash to herself as she took a piece of her long scraggily mud brown hair and cut it about two inches long. She was surprised to find that when her hair was all cut short, it had started to curl.

‘Learn something new everyday’.

She reached for the packet of dye she'd nicked from the herbalist.
She’d always wanted to be a red head.

Part Five

Lazily leaning against the door frame was Prince Joshua, third son of the King by his first wife. That amazing mop of curly red hair looking as soft as down and chocolate brown eyes. Tall. Broad shouldered. Gorgeous.

And he was laughing at her.

Tash silently screamed upwards in the vain hope that whoever had contrived to do this to her got a perforated eardrum.

The Princes shoulders were shaking slightly in his effort to reign in his laughter.

“This was obviously going to be one of his more amusing days”, though Josh.

Not only had a thief broken in and stolen his bitch of a stepmothers jewellery, which she was almost apocalyptic about, but now he had also found this crazy girl talking to herself in his bedroom. It was going to be an interesting day.

Tash’s eyes skimmed round the room checking for any obvious signs of her interference.

“Oh shit”, she screamed inwardly. The wash cloth had slipped from the contents of her bucket. And she still had his brush in her hand, oh gods, how embarrassing.

Other thieves are caught after long exiting chases. Not her. No. She gets caught talking to a ghost and clutching the Prince’s brush like some crazy love sick girl. Her only hope was that he hadn’t noticed the contents of the bucket yet and to get out as soon as possible.

“Gosh. Will you look at the time”, said Tash attempting to discretely cover the bucket and returned the hairbrush to the dressing table.

“I must be going. You know. Busy, busy, busy. Floors to mop. Desks to dust. Windows to clean. Sorry to disturb you, Your Highness. I’ll just be on my way.”

She continued in a bright breezy way which would have been more effective if her voice hadn’t squeaked like a prepubescent boys.

*clunk*

Her blood seemed to freeze as a necklace dislodged by the rapid movement fell to the floor. The diamonds sparkled brilliantly.

“Oh dear. Fancy that being there. I wonder where that came from?” Tash tried to look innocent, but her face seemed to be stuck on ‘Oh Shit!’

The Prince yanked the cloth away from the top of her bucket to reveal the glittering contents.

“Bugger” said Tash. Dropped the bucket on his foot. Shoved him over a conveniently positioned truck nearby and legged it.

As she raced away cries of “Guards! Guards! Catch her!” floated in her wake.

“That Freda’s a bloody jinx”, panted Tash.

Part Four

Part Four

Tash wiped the seat from her brow with her sleeve, leaving a dirty mark across her forehead. She must have counted at least fifty guards already. Lugging round a large heavy bucket full of illicit gain under the eyes of the household guard was not Tash’s idea of a fun time.

One of the Queen’s Ladies-in-Waiting had actually had her do her hair for her. Her maid had become ill and the other one had been ‘a clumsy oaf’. Tash had always thought she had a well rounded and creative vocabulary, but it was nothing compared to this supposed noblewoman’s. Tash had been shocked. She had never before that of herself as being naïve and she was finding it very uncomfortable.

Plus she’d actually had to work.

Tash had thought that if she kept her head down and looked as if she knew what she was doing it would be fine. But no - the senior Housekeeper had looked her in the eyes and told her to go mop the main corridor. She may as well have come at night for all the notice the household was giving her. She could have a permanent job here if she just kept showing up. She’d probably even get paid if she hung around till quarters end.

Tash shook her head to herself as she entered Prince Joshua’s room. Security was a disgrace. If she were the Prince she’s sleep in a chain mail nightshirt.

It was a beautiful room.

Tash would have goggled at the expensive fabrics used in the curtains if she had not already been into quite a few richly appointed rooms already. She had been tempted to steal the curtains in the first bedroom she had entered. She would have seamstresses fighting to get their grubby paws on them. What a waste.

She went immediately to the large mirror-like polished cupboard and checked out the clothes. Not that she’d be able to manage to take them. Still, she was curious to see up close what a Prince wore. She’d seen him from a distance once a couple of years back. He’d looked very blurry. Tash’s distance vision wasn’t so good. The only thing that had stood out to her was the incredible mop of red hair the man had. Thick, curly and a stunning dark coppery red. She had been curious as to whether it would have felt soft and feathery or like wire. It was not the kind of thoughts she was used to having and had not concerned herself with them again. However, she had noticed she had developed a distinct partiality to redheads since then.

But having a crush on a Prince was ridiculous and she refused to succumb to the absurd urge to sneak in at night and cut off a lock of his hair.

And she was not stealing his hairbrush because of any silly fancy she had for the Prince. It was a good hairbrush. She needed a new one anyway. The one she had appropriated the other week hurt her scalp.

“What do you think you are doing?”

Tash nearly jumped out of her skin before she realised it was someone yelling in the courtyard that the Prince’s window faced.

“Oh hell and damnation,” she said, holding a hand to her chest to calm her poor startled heart. “I hope the Goddess of Plagues sends you the pox you loud mouthed decrepit hulking lardarse. You scared the living daylights out of me. I’m beginning to think sneaking in here dressed as a maid and ransacking the room isn’t such a good idea after all. The pickings aren’t bad, but by gods, it’s hard on the nerves.”

“Tash”, said Freda “although I don’t approve of your professions, I must admit you are very creative.”

Tash collapsed into the nearest chair and moaned.

“Don’t tell me. Leg me guess” she said, “I’m going to suddenly over balance and fall out the window. Or maybe the Prince is going to com in for no apparent reason In the middle of the day when he’s usually at sword practice and spot me riffling through is draws and skewer me with the poker.”

Freda raised her eyebrow and with lofty disapproval said “Actually … I was a little lonely and thought I would pop in and see how you were getting on, but if I’m not welcome I will simply go back to limbo and let you get on with your thievery.”

“Freda” said Tash, “if you don’t take your nose out of the sky you’ll get frostbite.”

Freda looked as if she was going to raise her other eyebrow, but instead thought better of it and smiled instead.

“It’s just limbo is so boring lately. Nothing happens. I mean it was interesting at first. You know … meeting knew people et cetera, but after a while it kind of starts to pale on one. Death is all they ever talk about” she said with a sad little sigh. “Oh, it’s not all bad really. I guess one just has to have the right mentality for it. It’s just I’ve been so restless lately,” said Freda.

“Good gods. A restless spirit” said Tash, “Next thing I know you’ll be haunting people.”

“Haunting people?” said Freda shocked. “Oh I couldn’t!”
Then she seemed to stop and think about it.
A little mischievous look on her face.
“You know, maybe that’s not such a bad idea after all,” and disappeared.

Tash stared at where Freda had been. Covered her face and slid own in the chair, half laughing and half moaning.
“Oh Gods! Me and my big mouth.”

“You mean you talk to them as well?” said a cool voice from the doorway.

Part Three

Tash climbed out of the window of her room and jumped to the ground. She checked her disguise and then set out for the palace. The idea had occurred to her a few weeks ago that the King and Co were absolutely dripping in jewels and gold and yet no one ever seemed to attempt to break into the palace to relieve them of these weighty ornaments. Tash had thought up a dashing and daring plan. As the security would probably be tighter at night she would sneak in during the day. People were going in and out all day. One more maid wouldn’t really be noticed, she figured.

Tash had been casing the joint for the last week and was confident in her ability to sneak in, nick the stuff and creep out again with the children at lunchtime. Tash was only of average height and thought she could pass as a tall boy. She had stashed the clothes in an empty room near the door. With the clothes was a leather ball, from which the stuffing had been pulled out. Then it was holiday time by the seaside for Tash the Omnipotent.

Tash breathed in the chilly morning air, as yet unsullied by the dust or stirred up muck by the horses or their droppings, as if it were the finest wine. It was going to be a great day. She, Tash the Thief, would make history.

Part Two

Part Two

Tash took out the hook and twine from her pocket. By careful manoeuvring she relocked the shutters. Laughing softly to herself Tash weighed the purse in her hand.
“Hello again dear.”
Tash spun around, as quick as lightening, and fell off the roof.
“Are you alright,” asked Freda reappearing beside her.
“No” groaned Tash.
“Oh dear. I’m awfully sorry” said Freda.
Tash signed as the ghost wrung her hands worriedly.
“It’s alright,” she muttered, “I’ll live.”
“Not for long dear” corrected Freda absently.
“What do you mean, by that?”, asked Tash.
“Oh you’re going to die again” said Freda brightly.
“What again!” said Tash
“Oh yes dear. That’s why I’m here. After you close the shutters, you are going to walk along the roof and when you climb down a couple of drunk sailors are going to beat you to death” said Freda helpfully. “It’s all arranged.”
“But I’m not on the roof,” said Tash. “After I closed the shutters, I fell off.”
“Oh dear. So you did” said Freda in dismay. “Maybe if we hurry we can still catch them?”
But just as Freda said this, two drunks wandered out of a nearby alley singing a fascinating song about some nuns and a cucumber patch and staggered off towards the nearest bar.
“Oh dash it all.” Said Freda and disappeared.

Tash shook her head slowly, marvelling at the strangeness of the world. “Someone up there must really like me”, she thought as she dusted herself off and limped away.

Part One

Tash was just about to cross the street when a woman appeared out of thin air beside her. “Well hello dear. I’m sorry to have held you up, but I’m here now so let’s get on with it shall we?” she said in a bright breezy voice.

Noticing Tash’s stunned expression she asked if there was anything wrong. Tash’s mouth open and shut several times, but she finally managed to say “huh?”

The woman took note of Tash’s slightly glazed expression and said “You don’t look well dear.”

Narrator: I don’t suppose this is making any sense? Let me explain.

Tash is standing on a street corner in one of the poorer parts of town.  A dangerous place frequented by pickpockets, cutthroats, thieves, assassins and the general riff-raff of society. It is the kind of place you only go to if you are so drunk you can’t walk straight and every time you try to turn right, you fall over or run into something. People don’t walk down streets like these. They slide along the walls. The only people walking down these streets are victims, amateurs or professionals. Tash was a freelancer. In most cities they don’t allow freelancers. Here the Thieves Guild were a bit more relaxed. As long as you stayed away from their stuff, or anything they were going after you were fine. This however didn’t leave a lot left over, but that was supposed to be the freelancers problem. If she wanted to be a thief, then be a thief. It was a free country. There had been some close calls in the past, but Tash had come through okay. She maintained that her Guardian Angel bribes people.

Suffice to say, Tash belonged.
The lady on the other hand quite obviously did not belong.

It was not so much the cleanliness of the ladies person or the fact that she was wearing a white lacy nightgown in one of the meanest parts of the city. It was not even the fact that she was quite obviously a lady.

It was simply that the lady in question was surrounded by a flickering white light and was partially transparent.

Many strange, unusual and generally weird things can be seen in the poor quarters. Tash had seen many of them herself. This was strange enough to render her speechless for many a long moment.

“Who are you and what are you talking about?” said Tash.

“Oh I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t introduce myself, did I? My name is Freda Archon and I’m here to take you to the Hall of Judgement. Of course, one of your ancestors is supposed to escort you there, but I’m afraid there has been a slight mix up in administration and no one is quite sure who your ancestors are at the moment. I expect it will all be sorted out shortly, but in the meantime I volunteered to collect you. It’s been so boring in limbo lately. Still, enough of that. We’d better get going. They do so hate to be kept waiting.”

Freda took Tash’s arm and started to concentrate.

“Wait” yelled Tash, somewhat to the consternation of a man dressed in purple passing by who could not see Freda, “ I’m not dead. You can’t take me anywhere”.

Freda looked at Tash closely.

“Good heavens,” she exclaimed, “so you’re not.”

She frowned thoughtfully.

“Your name is Natashia MacPhee, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes – but everybody calls me Tash.”

“And you are a thief, aren’t you?”

“Possibly some people might consider me to be such.”

Well,” said Freda, “You’re the right person.”

Freda starred off into space, deep in thought.

“Of course … I suppose I could be early?” she said eventually.

Just as Freda said this the man in purple, who had been crossing the street was trampled by a runaway horse.
“Oh dear. That was supposed to be you.”, and promptly disappeared.

Tash stood on the street corner. A stunned expression on her face. Then she shook herself. Shrugged and crossed the street, after looking carefully both ways, silently thanking whichever being in administration had sent the twit along to collect her.

Introduction

I was looking through my stuff over the weekend and found a bundle of old papers.

I used to want to write a book when I was young.

As well as being a famous singer, dancer and wonder woman.

(and there was this one phase when my friends and I were pretending to be dating members of the village people - we had a very sheltered upbringing)

Anyway, I had a read through and they are absolutely dreadful.

I figured they would be good for a laugh.

So I've started typing one of them up and will post them here.

Please forgive the typos, punctuation, spelling and content.

I did eventually realise that I am no writer :)

Edit 28/10/08: I was trying to work it out last night and I know this was written well before I left highschool, so I figure I musta writ it around 13 or 14. I had quite obviously only just read the Belgariad and in love with the character 'Silk' :)