Week 3: The Sword You Can’t Get Rid Of
457 Words
The crowd was oblivious to the turmoil within her. Throngs of people milled about the car boot rummage, turning over trinkets, haggling for people’s faded dreams. She stood quietly by her table, trying not to look at the knife laid as casually as she could amongst her other things. Soon, it would be over.
The Dagger of Fortune had been a gift from an elderly woman. She had offered to mow her lawn, and the old woman had given it to her, apologizing for not having any money. She had reluctantly accepted it, thinking she might at least be able to sell it.
Between the old lady’s house and her home she found a $50 note, received a call accepting her job application and her brother returned the $200 he owed her. She was still spinning when she felt the dagger slice her. She hadn’t realized it was in her hand.
Over the next few weeks both her wealth and her physical misfortunes grew. Money found its way to her in various ways such as scratch tickets, raffles, extra shifts. It took her a while to realize her daily mishaps with the dagger might be linked. Still the extra money was good.
The amounts began to grow, as did the injuries. One evening she won $20,000 in a jackpot at her favorite pub. The blade caught her as she was drifting off to sleep, leaving a deep wound across her palm. Her nervousness had grown to fear. She had tried to throw it away to know avail, the thing was always back on her kitchen counter when she returned home.
When she thought of the old woman a thought came to her. She realized the old woman had given it to her. She wondered if the handing over was needed but didn’t like the idea of giving this curse to anyone she knew.
She tried to shed the guilt weighing on her as she watched people rummage through her belongings. Any one of them could be cursed next. She didn’t want anyone to get hurt, but she feared what would happen if she held it any longer.
“How much?” The voice shook her out of her reverie. The form of a young man stood in front of her.
“For what?”
“The blade and the book.” The man held them out with a look of annoyance. She took them from him and began wrapping the book
“Five for the blade, $20 for the book.”
“I’ll give you $20 for both.”
“Sold.” There was no hesitation. She held out the blade and waited until he took it from her. He took the book and turned to leave. A part of her wanted to warn him, until she realized he hadn’t paid for the book.
C.M. Wellsmore 