Short story.
A bit of a short about Glenn the wizard :)
A knock came at the door.
Glenn sat hunched over his rickety wooden table, feverishly studying the ancient texts, deciphering their language to that which he could understand. He didn’t even glance up at the sound and continued pouring over a large and aged looking piece of parchment that took up most of the table space.
There was a cry and another knock, sounding more frantic the second time.
Glenn looked up and scowled.
They would go away eventually, they always did. Though he could hear the ragings of the storm outside; the boughs of the many trees that surrounded his home tapping and beating against the wooden surfaces. Rain beat upon the window pane but the sound was dull and not distracting to Glenn.
He lowered his eyes back to the parchment and adjusted the glasses he wore on his nose. They would leave or he would put a curse upon them that would stay upon their family for generations until it finally faded.
His long pale fingers groped for the candle that stood on the table and moved it closer to where he was reading when a third knock came so loudly that it startled him.
Glenn slapped his hands down on the table top in frustration and stood, his head barely clearing the ceiling of the small house. His chair scuttled from behind him as he ripped the glasses off his face and threw them onto the table with a clatter.
Breathing heavily through his over large nostrils he stormed to the front door, which didn’t take long when he normally walked to it. When he stormed to the front door, however, he managed it in two or three steps.
Glenn grasped the door handle, already prepared to hex the daylights out of whoever stood on the other side of it and wrenched it open. His mind ready to strike a figurative death on the first blow slowed to a most literal halt when his eyes fell upon the figure that stood in his doorway.
It was a maiden, slender and delicate looking. She was well dressed in a now very damp blue silk dress underneath a long black traveling cloak. Her eyes looked up at Glenn from underneath the hood of her cloak.
Glenn met her eyes and allowed his brain to stop for only a second before recovering himself and regaining his more characteristic scowl. He looked down his nose at the female standing hunched and forlorn in the threshold of his home.
“May I help you?” he spoke stiffly. The words he’d been planning to say completely escaped his mind at the moment.
She looked up at him and bowed her head respectfully before speaking, her clothes dripping as she moved, “Please, sire, would you allow me shelter in your home until the storm passes over?”
“Sire? I am of no blood as that, girl,” he spoke strictly.
“Forgive me then,” she looked up at him again. She was soaked clearly to her skin and began to shiver. He could see her eyes darting past him to the glimmer of the fire that was in the hearth. “May I take shelter…sir?”
Glenn hated when he was of two minds about things. In this particular situation, however, one of his minds conquered the other mind in a few seconds and he glared down at the girl, “I am afraid not,” he said firmly, his hand on the edge of the door.
She lowered her head in disappointment but did not argue.
“There is a village down the road a short way.” Glenn said as though she would be comforted about traveling in the rain longer than was needed.
“Thank you.” She said and turned to walk off of the small step in front of the door.
“Glenndwishmick!”
There was a call from the back quarter of the house and the woman stopped but did not turn back to Glenn.
Glenn’s shoulders slackened. He seemed to lose about two feet in height, lowering himself like a great deflated balloon when he heard his name being called in that cracked voice.
“Glenndwishmick!” it cried again, closer on the second try.
Glenn closed his eyes, his hand sliding off the door as if in defeat and released a heavy, tortured sigh.
“Glenndwish - !”
“I’m at the gate!” Glenn bellowed.
The voice gave a loud snort, “Gate,” it said sarcastically. “Why do you always insist that we’re living in some sort of castle. You know you’re not capable - Oh, hello dear!”
The owner of the voice was peering above Glenn’s right shoulder. All that could be seen was large, round, hazel eyes and a tuft of tightly curled brown hair upon a round head.
Glenn looked as though he would have rather suffered a painful and interminable death rather than be where he stood.
“Are you alright, girl?” The eyes disappeared for a moment and then a full face popped out in front of Glenn who had opened the door more fully while pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I was just asking her to leave - “ Glenn muttered.
“Nonsense!” said what now appeared to be a short woman with a thin face that looked as though she had attempted more than the normal amount of anti-aging treatments left at her disposal.
“Why, she’s soaked to the bone, Glenn. Even you couldn’t be so cruel!” She moved forward onto the front step and took the girls arm. “Come in, come in my poor girl.” She said, leading the girl into the house and ignoring the growling coming from Glenn who held the door open for the two women and slunked in after them.
“You are most kind, madam.” The girl was saying when he entered.
It was his turn to snort.
The girl was standing next to the table he’d been sitting at a few minutes before. Her eyes fell upon him. “You are a wizard.” It was not a question.
The older woman looked up after hanging the girls cloak on a chair in front of the fire. “Glenndwishmick is a wizard of sorts,” she said. “Oh sit down Glenn! You’re making our guest nervous.”
“Guest?” Glenn spluttered, “Mother, I told you that I was - “ Glenn froze and looked at the girl.
There was no expression on her face though he could have sworn that he saw a hint of a smile on her lips. But her features seemed to soften a little as understanding came to her.
Glenn’s mother didn’t seem to be phased by the sudden realization, “Your little bit of research can wait for now.”
Glenn balled his hands into fists and suppressed the sudden urge to stamp his foot out of frustration.
“Don’t start your pouting now. We have company! Come, dear. Let us get you out of those clothes. You may wear something of mine while they dry.” She took the girl by the shoulders and steered her out of the room with a sharp look at Glenn as though daring him to complain any further.
Not as funny as I would like but it's just a rough...thing.
A knock came at the door.
Glenn sat hunched over his rickety wooden table, feverishly studying the ancient texts, deciphering their language to that which he could understand. He didn’t even glance up at the sound and continued pouring over a large and aged looking piece of parchment that took up most of the table space.
There was a cry and another knock, sounding more frantic the second time.
Glenn looked up and scowled.
They would go away eventually, they always did. Though he could hear the ragings of the storm outside; the boughs of the many trees that surrounded his home tapping and beating against the wooden surfaces. Rain beat upon the window pane but the sound was dull and not distracting to Glenn.
He lowered his eyes back to the parchment and adjusted the glasses he wore on his nose. They would leave or he would put a curse upon them that would stay upon their family for generations until it finally faded.
His long pale fingers groped for the candle that stood on the table and moved it closer to where he was reading when a third knock came so loudly that it startled him.
Glenn slapped his hands down on the table top in frustration and stood, his head barely clearing the ceiling of the small house. His chair scuttled from behind him as he ripped the glasses off his face and threw them onto the table with a clatter.
Breathing heavily through his over large nostrils he stormed to the front door, which didn’t take long when he normally walked to it. When he stormed to the front door, however, he managed it in two or three steps.
Glenn grasped the door handle, already prepared to hex the daylights out of whoever stood on the other side of it and wrenched it open. His mind ready to strike a figurative death on the first blow slowed to a most literal halt when his eyes fell upon the figure that stood in his doorway.
It was a maiden, slender and delicate looking. She was well dressed in a now very damp blue silk dress underneath a long black traveling cloak. Her eyes looked up at Glenn from underneath the hood of her cloak.
Glenn met her eyes and allowed his brain to stop for only a second before recovering himself and regaining his more characteristic scowl. He looked down his nose at the female standing hunched and forlorn in the threshold of his home.
“May I help you?” he spoke stiffly. The words he’d been planning to say completely escaped his mind at the moment.
She looked up at him and bowed her head respectfully before speaking, her clothes dripping as she moved, “Please, sire, would you allow me shelter in your home until the storm passes over?”
“Sire? I am of no blood as that, girl,” he spoke strictly.
“Forgive me then,” she looked up at him again. She was soaked clearly to her skin and began to shiver. He could see her eyes darting past him to the glimmer of the fire that was in the hearth. “May I take shelter…sir?”
Glenn hated when he was of two minds about things. In this particular situation, however, one of his minds conquered the other mind in a few seconds and he glared down at the girl, “I am afraid not,” he said firmly, his hand on the edge of the door.
She lowered her head in disappointment but did not argue.
“There is a village down the road a short way.” Glenn said as though she would be comforted about traveling in the rain longer than was needed.
“Thank you.” She said and turned to walk off of the small step in front of the door.
“Glenndwishmick!”
There was a call from the back quarter of the house and the woman stopped but did not turn back to Glenn.
Glenn’s shoulders slackened. He seemed to lose about two feet in height, lowering himself like a great deflated balloon when he heard his name being called in that cracked voice.
“Glenndwishmick!” it cried again, closer on the second try.
Glenn closed his eyes, his hand sliding off the door as if in defeat and released a heavy, tortured sigh.
“Glenndwish - !”
“I’m at the gate!” Glenn bellowed.
The voice gave a loud snort, “Gate,” it said sarcastically. “Why do you always insist that we’re living in some sort of castle. You know you’re not capable - Oh, hello dear!”
The owner of the voice was peering above Glenn’s right shoulder. All that could be seen was large, round, hazel eyes and a tuft of tightly curled brown hair upon a round head.
Glenn looked as though he would have rather suffered a painful and interminable death rather than be where he stood.
“Are you alright, girl?” The eyes disappeared for a moment and then a full face popped out in front of Glenn who had opened the door more fully while pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I was just asking her to leave - “ Glenn muttered.
“Nonsense!” said what now appeared to be a short woman with a thin face that looked as though she had attempted more than the normal amount of anti-aging treatments left at her disposal.
“Why, she’s soaked to the bone, Glenn. Even you couldn’t be so cruel!” She moved forward onto the front step and took the girls arm. “Come in, come in my poor girl.” She said, leading the girl into the house and ignoring the growling coming from Glenn who held the door open for the two women and slunked in after them.
“You are most kind, madam.” The girl was saying when he entered.
It was his turn to snort.
The girl was standing next to the table he’d been sitting at a few minutes before. Her eyes fell upon him. “You are a wizard.” It was not a question.
The older woman looked up after hanging the girls cloak on a chair in front of the fire. “Glenndwishmick is a wizard of sorts,” she said. “Oh sit down Glenn! You’re making our guest nervous.”
“Guest?” Glenn spluttered, “Mother, I told you that I was - “ Glenn froze and looked at the girl.
There was no expression on her face though he could have sworn that he saw a hint of a smile on her lips. But her features seemed to soften a little as understanding came to her.
Glenn’s mother didn’t seem to be phased by the sudden realization, “Your little bit of research can wait for now.”
Glenn balled his hands into fists and suppressed the sudden urge to stamp his foot out of frustration.
“Don’t start your pouting now. We have company! Come, dear. Let us get you out of those clothes. You may wear something of mine while they dry.” She took the girl by the shoulders and steered her out of the room with a sharp look at Glenn as though daring him to complain any further.
Not as funny as I would like but it's just a rough...thing.