Well, quoth the Raven: write me some more.

So I did. If you missed the first part of this ‘work going somewhere’ then take a look at yesterday‘s post.

Gyra tried to gather all of her hair into one hand so she could pull it into a ponytail. Roguish strands continued to escape her deft fingers and she nearly had all of them when her mobile rang. Juggling the phone from her pocket with one hand, she cursed as more strands made their bid for freedom. Glancing at the display, she frowned. If that was another marketeer, she was going to sue him for ruining her hairdo. Admitting defeat, she let go of her hair and touched the screen.

“Yes?”

She was not going to pretend a good mood.

“Gyra?”

“Yes this is Gyra,” she snapped. “Who am I talking to?”

“Gyra, this is Raven.”

She gasped.

“You can’t be. He’s ….”

“…Dead?” The man on the other side of the line laughed.

“You are mistaken, Gyra. I am very much alive. In fact, I can almost say I am reborn.”

“So you were dead then. How else can you be reborn?” Gyra clung to the bit of nonsense he had given her. Her mind was in a turmoil.

“So like you, dear, to jump on the details.”

A heavy silence fell between them.

Finally Gyra broke it.

“So, how did you do it?” She hated her question but could not come up with anything better. “I mean, I saw you die, right?”

She heard the sound of cutlery on Raven’s side of the line.

“Gyra … “ She heard him swallow a mouthful. “I think you mean that you thought you saw me die. Miracles are so unlikely, don’t you think?”

There was no doubt the man on the other side of the phone was Raven. Only he could manage that condescending tone without actually giving offense.

“I’m glad I was wrong, then.” She answered lamely.

“Listen dear, I will not keep you long. No doubt you have important things to attend to.”

Again. Maybe he was a little offensive.

“I need your help on some financial matters.”

Gyra had recovered from her initial shock and irritation was back. But Raven was no marketeer.

“Are you asking me for money?”

“I wish I could call it any other way, but yes. I need some money rather urgently.”

She leant against the wall, thrown between triumph and deception. The great Raven was alive and needed her help and well, the great Raven was actually begging her for money. But Raven never begged so Raven was never refused.

“How much do you need?”

She heard the rustling of paper through the phone. The bill?

“A few thousand would cover it, I think.”

“That’s a heck of an expensive meal,” she muttered.

“I’ll text you the account number, shall I? I would appreciate it if you could make it an express transfer. Ideally I could use the money now.”

She sighed, but not loud enough to let Raven hear.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you, dear. I knew I could count on you.”

She started to smile but caught herself and changed it into a full blown scowl.

“Anytime, Raven. I’m so glad you’re back.”

He had already broken the connection.

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About Emmy

"The urge to write is like a feverdream. And I have been dreaming for most of my life."

8 responses to “Well, quoth the Raven: write me some more.”

  1. C. Jeffrey says :

    Very mysterious. New projects are so much fun!

    • Emmy says :

      They are indeed. This one I keep as a reward for completing my set goals. Can’t wait to see where it ends.

  2. A.D. Everard says :

    This sounds really good. It snatches your attention and makes you want to find out more.

    Cheers! 🙂

  3. writeonthebeach says :

    Like the sound of this Emmy – keep going. Thanks for the visit and like 🙂

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