Yemoja

Praxxis

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"What do you see?" I asked, staring up to the blackened sky above.

"Hundreds, thousands of lights. Little, white lights, some big, some small. Like Christmas." Jackson replied over my shoulder.

I squinted my eyes and tried to imagine it. To concentrate hard enough that maybe the lights, stars, would appear, but nothing as always. The sky remained barren.

Star blind, they called it. Such an interesting term for a mundane defect. A genetic disorder categorized by ones inability to see the wavelength projected by stellar bodies., is what my medical sheet said.

"See anything yet?" Jackson moved closer, eyes still fixed to the sky.

"Yet? I never will. I won't just suddenly get over my Star Blindness." I shot back. I could feel the sadness creeping up at the back of my throat. I was angry, jealous, but most of all frustrated that I still felt so incomplete. That my entire world was in blackness. That I couldn't tell the difference between day and night. That me and the others like me had to carry around those damned solar lanterns when nobody else did.

"I...yeah I'm sorry. I didn't really think." Jackson mumbled to the ground.

But I was no longer concerned with his words as something had appeared up in the sky. A spiral, small at first but growing larger by the second.

"Wait, Jackson! I think I see one!" I pointed to the sky. "It's growing!"

He looked up quickly in excitement, but was only left squinting as I had been before. "Uh...Marcy, there's nothing up there. As a matter of fact that's the only place in the sky without stars." His voice changed to panic.

I stared as it continued its blackened swirl, like a pit of tar holding all that it could within. Swallowing but never full. A void of nothingness.

It's me, I thought. Doomed to never see what it swallows, yet taking it anyways. Doing my bidding, making sure that next time someone looks up to the sky, they see the same blackness as I.

I hoped it would leave the world truly black.

Nothing stopping you from doing it too :)

Looks like someone beat me to the punch with the dragon bit

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Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

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It was in the bag! Sell the soul for help with customer support. But after five reboots, ten phone calls, eight of them ending in disconnects, and two ending in a “please email us the photo of your routers serial number”. IF THEY HAD INTERNET THEY WOULD BE ABLE TO!!!

Customer support had been a brilliant idea to get souls. Frustrate people so they either yell at the people around them, or agree to sell their souls directly for help dealing with it. But somewhere the system evolved. It wasn’t letting me get anywhere to solve the darn problem. And being 3500 years old technology doesn’t just come easy for me. I am starting to miss the days you could hit it with a stick. To be fair, that worked with people too.

Back in bell I pull out some books. Maybe I’ll be able to figure out how the system broke. Looking through Comcast’s names I see one. Adimus. That angel went and made it more complex? I can see why the demon console approved it. I decide to call in a favor and call him up to ask why.

“Hello? This is Adimus”

“Yeah Adimus, this is Mirgroth, about ten years ago you put in a suggestion to make the customer support system more complex. I want to call in my favor from three hundred years ago to ask why?”

“Oh, i almost forgot I did that! Did it get implemented finally?”

“Yeah. You know how hell works. Bureaucracy all the way. Takes ages to make any changes at all.”

“Great! Now to return your favor, I put in that suggestion because I figured that one something got complex and frustrating enough that humans being weird would commiserate with each other and maybe save some souls.”

“Well congratulations. It’s working!” I slam the receiver down. What a ploy and we fell for it hook line and sinker.

"No smoking either. We have rules." I say with a sigh, hated it when people played with semantics.

"I've nothing in my hands. I wasn't smoking." they said, showing their empty hands."See?"

"There's still smoke leaking from your nostrils. You know our no smoking rule isn't just strictly cigarettes and other smoking paraphernalia." I say, shaking my head."Look, the boss only allows you guys because you pay a lot. I dont want to have to kick you out. You normally dont cause trouble, but rules are rules, no smoking or vaping, period."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean what i said, you and your kind have issues with smoking a lot, so either keep it under wraps, or kindly leave. Like i said, i dont want to kick you out" i say, rubbing my temples lightly.

They huffed, another slight gust of smoke exiting their nose "Then i'll leave. Can't believe someone would treat us so poorly; we used to be kings!" They said before leaving

I sigh and let them leave before returning to my post, the Elven bartender chuckling "We'll see him next week, he cant resist our booze"

I nod "Dragons though.. i swear.." i add with a chuckle

It was in the bag! Sell the soul for help with customer support. But after five reboots, ten phone calls, eight of them ending in disconnects, and two ending in a “please email us the photo of your routers serial number”. IF THEY HAD INTERNET THEY WOULD BE ABLE TO!!!

Customer support had been a brilliant idea to get souls. Frustrate people so they either yell at the people around them, or agree to sell their souls directly for help dealing with it. But somewhere the system evolved. It wasn’t letting me get anywhere to solve the darn problem. And being 3500 years old technology doesn’t just come easy for me. I am starting to miss the days you could hit it with a stick. To be fair, that worked with people too.

Back in bell I pull out some books. Maybe I’ll be able to figure out how the system broke. Looking through Comcast’s names I see one. Adimus. That angel went and made it more complex? I can see why the demon console approved it. I decide to call in a favor and call him up to ask why.

“Hello? This is Adimus”

“Yeah Adimus, this is Mirgroth, about ten years ago you put in a suggestion to make the customer support system more complex. I want to call in my favor from three hundred years ago to ask why?”

“Oh, i almost forgot I did that! Did it get implemented finally?”

“Yeah. You know how hell works. Bureaucracy all the way. Takes ages to make any changes at all.”

“Great! Now to return your favor, I put in that suggestion because I figured that one something got complex and frustrating enough that humans being weird would commiserate with each other and maybe save some souls.”

“Well congratulations. It’s working!” I slam the receiver down. What a ploy and we fell for it hook line and sinker.

##Promise to Change

The true secret of happiness lies in taking a genuine interest in all the details of daily life, but what did you do when the mundane was boring?

That was John's affliction. His reality was remarkably dull. The average observer would be fascinated by his mediocrity. He worked as an accountant for a mid-sized company where his performance reviews were neither exceptional nor abysmal. His cooking skills were enough to ensure he was never ravenous, but he didn't enjoy what he ate. He had a small circle of friends, and he had no trouble getting dates with men and women. Though, everyone he dated walked away wanting more excitement.

And John accepted this reality. Life would never provide him with excitement and joy. Apathy was all he could muster. He couldn't hope that it would get better because hope would lead to disappointment. Disappointment was common in his youth when he strived for greatness and fell short so often.

A large part of him wished that the origin of his aloofness wasn't so mundane. In his youth, he imagined that he would suffer a tragic accident on his way home from school. Everyone would cry and support him. His recovery would capture their hearts. Minor setbacks would be large obstacles, and small victories would be grand triumphs. Alas, he was cursed with normalcy, and that was existence.

Until he sat next to that old woman on the bus.

"You have lovely eyes," she said to him. John raised an eyebrow at her.

"Thank you," he replied.

"They remind me of my husband's." The woman began to weep.

"What's wrong?" John asked.

"He died last week, and memories are coming back." She wiped her tears as John patted her on the back.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you. When I see you, I can't help but be reminded of the good times I shared with him." She hit herself on the head. "I'm sorry. That was extremely inappropriate."

"No, it's fine. I understand." John moved closer and looked at her. In his heart, emotions began to stir. "I'm sure he was a good man."

"He was a great man. He made every day special. Even when I woke up with the worst moods, a few seconds with him made the world seem okay," she said.

"That sounds amazing." John smiled as emotions stirred within him.

"He was a bit naïve, but in a cynical world, joy is a rare necessity. Would you say you're the same way?" she asked.

"Yes." John lied without hesitation.

"That's good." The bus stopped, and the woman stood up. "This is my start. Thank you for brightening my day."

As she left, John felt his world shift. His lie became a promise. A promise to support others. A promise to see the good in life. A promise to be happy. It was a promise that he would keep.

r/AstroRideWrites

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Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* No AI-generated reponses 🤖 >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [RF] and [SP] for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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Feline ears flickered back and forth then swiveled towards me before flattening in disgust. That wasn't all. Soft black velvet fur, two catspaws and clawed hands with pink palms.

They didn't really seem to be a cat. It was true though that they seemed to have gotten all of the best parts. Their delicate features and petite frame were accentuated not obscured and she was moving with more grace than before.

"Oh uh you've got airplane ears. Cute by the way. So you are feeling uncertain about this right?" Maybe a little uneasy?"

I was guessing based off the book about cat behaviour that I had read earlier that morning. It seemed I was correct because of the way her eyes widened.

"You sick bastard! I'm a freak now and I'm furry and you know what the worst part is? Everyone can see exactly what I'm feeling! Anyone with a cat suddenly knows everything about me!"

I hastily stepped back as her face contorted into a snarling hissing expression of rage. This exposed her rough sandpaper tongue and canines which were of course much more menacing on a human face by virtue of being much larger. For heavens sake it was like a vampire! She pulled out her tongue for emphasis and forced my hand to it

"Dob Ub feelb howb rouffhh dis is? Feh it!"

She pulled away recoiling in disgust at some mysterious flavour only known to cats her head rolling back and about on her shoulders. She protested still gagging; with tears in her eyes.

"You know whats really, really the worst? I can taste whatever that was but sugar? Sugar is completely gone! How am I supposed to bake cakes for a living when cats can't taste sweetness? Blegh! My tongue is all wrong! Its rough and useless!"

I felt sick to my stomach. It was just like my mother to take someones livelihood because of... well it could be anything! It was becoming impossible to get any more information because of the way she was carrying on.

"Thats not even the worst part. I'm actually deathly allergic to chocolate, raisins, onions, garlic, chives and coffee all kinds of things. I haven't felt well since I got out of the hospital for a triple allergic reaction. I can't even drink. Have you ever seen a drunk cat?"

My heart clenched. Did she say triple allergic reaction? Even worse now that I thought about it I couldn't ever remember seeing a cat partake in alcohol. I'd seen them eating kitty bars, bits of meat, yogurt, butter. There were so many videos of cats on the internet. With a sinking feeling I realized I'd never seen a tipsy cat. Why was that? Why!

This young woman was twenty like me but instead of living at home with all the time in the world she clearly worked hard. The bake shop below her townhome was her passion. Flour dust and scattered cookware were everywhere. The smell of rising yeast and the delicious scent of warming chocolate filled the cramped room. Too late I spotted a complicated looking rolling pin.

"Fix me!"

The rolling pin swung towards my braced arms but changed course midair to smack into my midsection.

"Uff! Ugh! Wait let me explain!"

I reached for the rolling pin but she flipped backwards like some sort of gymnast sending her bright pink phone flying out of her apron. What was she supposed to be? Kitty Softpaws?

I groaned: "Unnngh..."

"How dare you call me cute! I look goth or whatever because she made me a tux- did I just do a freaking flip?"

Dryly I noted that she had. Oogh. But I was saved because just then a group of asian tourists and their teenage daughters strolled by.

"Look its a catgirl cafe! Please?"

"Please! Look its a genuine cafe but here in the US! "

There was an older looking man with a bold white suit and red tie that these girls were speaking to. They pointed at the bakery and talked in rapid-fire Japanese. Woozily I sat down on a stool and quietly spoke an incantation. Out of a pocket dimension constructed beyond the bounds of the material plane powdered catnip poured into my palm.

You see there was one other thing about cats besides allergies and agility and those telegraphed expressions. They could only pay attention to moving things. Staying as still as I was her attention was fixed on the group of energetic young girls and their fathers. I was also sure that an independent bakery owner couldn't possibly pass on foreign customers with plenty of money for tips and an appetite for Scandinavian pastry.

She couldn't see me and that was my cue to get out of here before someone got hurt. Like me. I would be the one getting hurt. Unnecesarily too since I'd been trying to help!

I yelled: "Magic Powder Attack! Flinging the pile of crushed catnip right into her face

Her eyes went wide and her face relaxed as she slid down from the counter. With a slight note of panic tinging her voice she murmured.

"Didja... did you jus-"

Right then the tourists burst into the shop. The two fathers throwing the doors open for their daughters and exclaiming in delighted Japanese at the wide variety of pastries. The girls rushed over to her pulling out phones. There you go! That was a niche market and an opportunity!

You see I wasn't nearly talented enough to undo a complicated artifice of sorcery of the kind my mother was so fond of. I was more into tricks.

The next few weeks were rough for her. The local newspaper proclaimed that Local Woman Receives International Acclaim For Cat Costume. After a letter I sent her anonymously she started streaming games. She started to like it when people pet her and scratched her chin. Which I thought was strange but said something about cats.

I had a certain power over luck that made these things work. I just wish my mother wasn't so damn disturbing! I mean allergies are no joke. Sheesh...

This would make some good commentary about reversing generational trauma…

Cool.

At least she is technically beatable, unlike Comcast.

Thanks so much! If you haven't read the other take on the prompt by u/SilasCrane, you should; it's awesome!

Amazing!!! Thanks for your story, you have a great way with words. Lots of emotions. Nothing more dangerous than a witch with dementia

No internet tho 🥲