After Life

When I awoke, I saw it was already dark! Panicked that I might be missing the opportunity to lob my stone at the fascinating lass, I sprang so quickly to my feet that I had to hold my head fast to my shoulders to keep it from wobbling loose. I ran out into the misty field as quickly as I could, grateful that I had no need to worry about breathing or muscle cramping.

I arrived in the area closest to the trees, and was pleased that it didn’t take me long to find my painstakingly crafted stone. I could sense that the witching hour was still a while off, but my nerves were so frayed that I was compelled to stand at the ready, rock in hand, to soothe them.

Not ten minutes had passed when I saw a white figure beneath the trees, steadily coming closer! I had to make a decision quickly! Did I throw my stone now, before the time was ideal, or did I wait and risk not having another chance for ages?

Ultimately, my exhilaration and impatient nature made up my mind for me. As soon as the woman was as close to me as she ever came, I shouted at the top of my lungs, “Hey!” Without waiting for her reaction, I hurled the stone in her direction as hard as I could!

I watched, my unbeating heart in my very throat, as the rock arced through the air. I exulted as I realized it would make it as far as it needed to, it would surely just gently nudge her feet! A foolish grin was plastered to my face when the least expected thing of all happened. The stone made it to the maid’s bare ankles... and then continued along its path, zinging cleanly through her left leg!

My mouth dropped open and I stared rudely, completely perplexed. Apparently, my missile hadn’t gone unnoticed, either. The woman turned to scowl at me, for the first time giving me a clear look at her face. It was heart-shaped, and bore an expression of absolute fury!

Curses! I raised my hands in my best placating gesture, “I’m sor-“

I was abruptly cut off, “-You arse! You think that, just because you live in a castle, you can throw rocks at me?” I searched frantically for the best words to calm her, but it had been so long since I’d spoken to anyone but myself, I scarcely knew how!

I watched her, still hopelessly confused, as she ducked down, picked up my emblem of newfound friendship, and glowered derisively at it. “What kind of witchcraft is this? You putting a hex on me?” Without any further ado, she threw it right back at me!

Instinctively, I reached out to catch the fruit of so many hours of labor, but, of course, it went sailing right through my outstretched hand. I turned, only just in time to watch it collide with a larger rock on the ground behind me, and split in twain.

My shoulders slumped with the first real taste of a sound defeat since I had been murdered. Frustrated, unhappy, and utterly unthinking, I turned back about, plucked my head off, and threw it at the still-frowning woman.

Ugh! I was briefly stunned as I hit the barrier and fell facedown into the grass; I could see nothing as my body came to fetch me diligently. By the time I was once again fully assembled, the woman had disappeared.

“Good riddance! Harridan!” I shook my fist where she had been standing before turning to collect my broken stone. I picked up the two halves, smiling forlornly to myself. I had worked so hard on the silly thing, and for what? Just to get yelled at by an ill-tempered wench?

It was as I turned over the pieces in my hands, consumed by melancholy at the failure of my plans, that I remembered how my projectile had gone straight through the woman’s ankle. Indeed, just as it had gone through my own hand, only to strike the ground.

Was the cantankerous strumpet dead, like me?

Notes

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