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The Crone

A Story Every Day in 2024 July 28th 210/366

By Rachel DeemingPublished 2 years ago • 2 min read
The Crone
Photo by Valentin Balan on Unsplash

"Don't drink from there!"

Tamara was thirsty and had been desperately looking for a water fountain. She was leaning to drink from where the water was flowing when a woman's voice stopped her.

Tamara was tempted to ignore her but images of vomiting and multiple toilet visits made a sudden appearance in her head and she sighed and turned towards the voice.

Standing there was, of course, a peasant woman: headscarf, deeply wrinkled face, long skirts and some teeth.

"You don't want to drink that water, child," the wizened old crone said.

"Why? What's wrong with it?" Tamara asked.

"It's cursed and will make you old and wrinkly, like me." The crone winked, unexpectedly.

Tamara's head was pounding and her throat was as crisp as a sun-baked slug.

She weighed it up. There was no way this water would have that effect. That was superstitious nonsense, the stuff of fairytales. Absolute bollocks. She had diarrhoea tablets. She was thirsty and she was going to drink. She looked at the old woman, shrugged her shoulders and gulped the water, shunning the risk proposed.

The old woman watched with an eerie intensity.

When Tamara had thoroughly slaked her thirst, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and saw a couple of brown spots. Sun damage, she thought. More sunscreen.

The old woman had gone. Instead, there was a beautiful young woman dressed as a peasant. Her face was euphoric, beaming at Tamara.

Tamara was unnerved.

"What? Don't tell me that you're going to warn me off like that crazy old woman?"

"There're no old women in this village," the girl said and turned to walk away. "Until you leave."

Tamara laughed. The girl had to be the same age as her.

Then the girl stopped and turned.

"But you'll be here a while yet, I think."

"I don't think so. My bus leaves at 4," Tamara said.

"Maybe. But I don't think you're going to want to go looking like that."

Tamara had no idea what the girl meant and got out her compact.

And screamed at her crone's face.

The girl sighed.

"Just do what I did. You'll get lucky."

And added, "Eventually."

***

365 words

I forgot all about this story and where it was going to go because of life interruptions.When I returned to it, this is what came out. It was definitely not where I was going with it in the first place. Lord knows what that was going to be about.

Thanks for stopping by! If you do read this, please leave a comment as I love to interact with my readers.

210/366

MicrofictionHumorHorrorFantasythrillerPsychological

About the Creator

Rachel Deeming

Storyteller. Poet. Reviewer. Traveller.

I love to write. Check me out in the many places where I pop up:

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    Written by Rachel Deeming