500 words a day

801 words - 16th July

Agnes was having one of those days. It happened to everyone, even Fairy godmothers.  Agnes was very experienced; 200 years at least she’d been at this. Most of the time she loved it, she loved the sense of achievement, she loved seeing their little faces when she granted them wishes or made something special happen, she loved the thrill that often came when it looked like things weren’t going to quite work out and all would end in doom and death, but at the last minute the subject was saved or made a new discovery or found some new inner strength or something lovely like that and the evil one, the cruel one, the inconsiderate, plotting, badassed one, had his hopes shattered, his schemes destroyed or even, sometimes, and these were a bit unusual, had a change of heart and stopped being evil or mean or vindictive.


         It was lovely work and she was proud to do it, proud of her family tradition, glad her mum had taught her all the skills and managed to save up enough to send her to the Academy – BUT – sometimes, just sometimes, she didn’t like it. Today, was all about the last job, she realised, that bloody simpering girl who was always complaining to her teddy bear that no one liked her and they never invited her to any of their parties and none of the boys ever asked her out or even looked at her. Mildred was her name. Frankly, Agnes found it a real struggle to care about Mildred. She had a pretty cosy life, her parents were loving, maybe a bit too much, they did everything for her and never made demands of her and never blamed her for anything or told her off, even when, frankly, she needed it. 


         Mildred was hard to like. She wasn’t surprised that she had no friends- who would want her at their party? Obviously in the end she’d fulfilled the contract, she had to, it was part of their code. No one in their chapter had ever failed to fulfil a contract, but that didn’t mean they liked the subjects always or sometimes wanted them to be hurt or bullied or left out or abused.


         This morning Agnes woke up and realised she needed a break, she hadn’t had a break for 30 years or so, it was about time. She rang Bertha, who she just knew would be up for it, and suggested they get away, go the camp, the place they always went to when they felt like this. Bertha was immediately convinced and wanted to know when they could go.


         They decided to go next Monday, as soon as Bertha had finished her current contract, some whiney little old man who’s wife had died and was complaining that none of his relatives ever came round to visit him or help him out.


         ‘Not surprised,’ said Bertha, ‘he’s a mean little bugger and he stinks of old farts.’


         On Monday she’d picked Bertha up in her pumpkin limo, she decided to use the best one and even hired a chauffeur; bit of an extravagance but she deserved it. They arrived at the camp just as the sun was going down.


         ‘Perfect timing,’ said Bertha. ‘We’ll have time to unpack, have a shower and get ready for the evening hunt.’


         They looked at each other and laughed.


         ‘I’m going to chase that little bitch all through the night,’ said Agnes pointing out the back window to the cage that was attached behind. Inside Mildred was holding onto the bars with her teddy bear stuffed under her arm. They could see her screaming but the pumpkin was soundproofed so they didn’t have to hear her. The old man, was sitting in the middle of the cage, occasionally hitting the bars with his stick looking furious and frightened.


         ‘We’ll see how helpless that old bastard is,’ said Bertha, ‘I have a feeling he might suddenly re-discover the ability move when I stick this poker where the sun don’t shine.’


         They laughed and cackled as the limo pulled into the camp. Agnes leaned forward to speak to the chauffeur,


         ‘Be a good boy and stick those freaks in the holding tank,’ she said putting a roll of notes in his hand. ‘If you come by my room later on, I might have another surprise for you too.’ She winked and nudged Bertha in the ribs as they pulled up outside the Castle.


         ‘I love this place,’ said Bertha.


         ‘I’d go mad if I didn’t have it,’ said Agnes. ‘By the way, when you’ve got changed, come to my room before we go out, I’m gonna fire this up.’ She held out an enormous purple coloured spliff.


         ‘You are evil,’ said Bertha.


         ‘Yes I am! Until midnight tomorrow!’


         








** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **





Steve Wybourn





** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **