Regeneration - January 23, 2012

[note: this was written during a writing exercise: we had 20 minutes to write something inspired by the word "Regeneration". This is the result, unedited, exactly as it appeared when time ran out]

Regeneration - Squiddy Geiger - January 23, 2012

She stirred the cauldron on the stove, slowly, careful to keep it liquid, letting it thicken without congealing. She whistled happily as she worked.

An orange tabby yelled at her from beside her legs, asking for attention as only orange tabbies can. She ignored him - he had food, he had water, and he had a clean litter box. As for attention, the more she gave him, the more he demanded.

Melvin was quiet upstairs. The only sound from the rest of the house was the television, murmuring from the other room where she'd left it on. It would be news now. She hated watching the news. She tested the consistency, was not quite satisfied, and continued to stir.

Melvin was quiet. Melvin was always quiet these days. She hoped this surprise would change that, bring back the old Melvin who had wooed her. The Melvin who had won her heart. The Melvin who had swept her off her feet. That Melvin had been AWOL for a long time.

The old woman in the flea market had assured her this would work. Her instructions had been very specific, and they were to be followed precisely, or the potion would not work. Odile had accepted the instructions and paid her, but as she walked away, she'd thought of a question, and turned back to ask it. The old woman was already gone.

Odile tested the contents again. The consistency was perfect - the spoon didn't stand up, but it slid over slowly. She took it off the heat, and the words she'd written carefully on the paper:

"Reviens à moi!
Reviens à moi!
J'ai besoin de toi
reviens à moi!"

She sighed, and took the pot upstairs to the darkened room where Melvin waited patiently. She held her breath, and walked over to the bed where his mummified body waited. The instructions had been clear, and she followed them. As she poured the contents over his body, she recited the chant again, hoping her accent was right.

"Reviens à moi!
Reviens à moi!
J'ai besoin de toi
reviens à moi!"

The old woman had said it would take two days for it to work. She sighed, sat in the old rocker next to the bed, and waited. The cat, yelling at her, jumped into her lap and curled up as she petted him. It would be a long two days.

Posted by Squiddy at January 23, 2012 08:30 PM | TrackBack