Authonomy – Friday Flash Fiction [FFF]
Post: FFF – January 17, 2014
Theme / Genre: Status Update.
Include: –
Words: 474
Unhidden Status.
Knock.
Knock, knock, knock.
Knock.
Knock, knock, knock, knock.
Knock.
Knock, knock.
Knock.
Grubweilden’s door manner is rhythmical I’ll certainly give him that. Yet, somehow, no matter how hard or complicated he made his knocking, I could always guess it was him.
It was dark when I opened my eyes.
‘Come, Grubweilden.’
The black japanned latch rattled and the heavy oak door creaked open with all the subtlety of an air horn. Light from the hallway rushed in to meet my quickly shrinking pupils.
‘Good evening, Sire.’
‘Yes, indeed it is, Grubweilden,’ I say, looking over to the silhouette standing in the doorway. Despite his flat, darkened, one-sidedness, the Underbriar appeared more shrivelled and soiled than normal. ‘Meditation focuses the mind, you know, Grubweilden. So deep was my focus, I was unaware that the sun had even set. What is the time, Grubweilden?’
‘Tuesday, Sire.’
‘Tuesday? What do you mean Tuesday?’ Honestly, I do worry about the boy. ‘I asked for the time, not the day, Grubweilden. And, it’s Saturday.’
‘I beg you pardon, Sire. I feel your deep focus was indeed deeper than the depth of your incantation sack.’
With my eyes adapting to their new found brilliance, I could not help but notice a smile emblazoned on Grubweilden’s face. I smile signifying that he was glad to see me. My realisation, backed up with the fact that the scruffy Grubweilden was a result of my comatose state and lacking my orders for cleanliness, that I had been out of circulation for over seventy-two hours.
‘Incredible, Grubweilden. My meditation taken to an all time depth; heart rate, metabolism— Where’s that vibration coming from?’
‘Your electric wand, Sire. In my pocket. It’s been going mad for the last two days.’
‘That’s eWand, Grubweilden, eWand. Get with the times, boy.’
‘Sorry, Sire. Your E-Wand has been going mad for the last two days.’
‘That’s better, now hand it over. Who’s been trying to get of hold me.’
‘I’m sure it’s nothing, Sire. Spam, or bung mail.’
‘Grubweilden, the eWand, now.’
I could tell he was up to something, or had been. Like a shy child he dug into his bulging pocket, Baffleton knows what’s in there. He pulled out the wand, some sticky stuff coating it, and adorned lint of some description.
‘Grubweilden, you messy, irksome chap.’
I took the wand between my two fingers and tentatively flicked it on. Pointed it to the wall and began operating the status update mode. A series of notes came up, at the corner of my eye I see Grubweilden slope away.
Wow, blueberry cream biscuits are awesome!
Liked this mega picture of old Lord Maxington, meditating.
Picture of me in Maxington’s best conjuring gown.
Hey, guys, check out this 150 years Mount Biscuit Mead, tastes awesome.
Picture of me poking old Maxington with—
‘GRUBWEILDEN!’
