This is an unplanned story, because I was supposed to be having a week off Substack. (Ha ha ha, guess how that worked out?!). Anyway, this is a weird one, based on A Hag on the Beach , a flash fiction I wrote some weeks ago.
Thank you
for your help and good advice!The record hiccupped, stuck in a loop. She got up to turn it off, took a sip of her champagne, then laid back on the couch and rested her head on Chronos’ bare chest. He smoked in lazy silence. Chronos never hurried. He had all the time in the world. Unlike El, who tapped her nervous fingers on his strong chest. She was always running out of time, always feeling it ticking away, sand grains grinding through the hourglass in a never ending stream.
“Chronos?”
“Mmm?” He blew another cloud of smoke into the darkness.
“Am I good enough? I fail every time, and…” she asked timidly.
“We’ve been through this countless times, El darling! You’re the best. That’s why we chose you. Don’t worry. Do your thing.”
“But they never listen…”
“Your job is to speak the truth. They have a choice, every time. That’s how it works. Trust me.”
She shook her head, then kissed his chest, and laid listening to his heartbeat counting the seconds away.
“Chronos, are we the villains?”
He gave a short chuckle.
“You don’t want to know, dear El,” Chronos handsome lips touched hers, El shut her eyes tight, because she knew the drill well.
~
El opened her eyes to the fire.
“Wake up, witch! Wake up, and face your punishment, whore!” The townsfolk yelled.
Another small wooden town. Another witch’s pyre. The ropes cut into her skin, and her mouth was tied shut. Another stake to be bound to, again and again, a never ending time loop. She had spoken the truth, and they called her a witch. That’s how it went.
El squinted to see their faces through the fire. Would she see a single pair of sympathetic eyes? She was always hopeful, right till the end. No luck this time. Only ugly faces warped by joyful rage; from kids laughing, to the chuckles of old toothless faces. The smoke bit her eyes. Flames licked her fair skin and caught her torn clothes. She knew the pain won’t be long, yet every second was unbearable before Chronos appeared among the flames, grabbed her, and both flew through the dark portal of time and space.
Yet again both lay in his apartment in the middle of 1970's Paris. Poor Edith Piaf was still hiccupping. El got up to end the record’s agony, took a sip of champagne, and laid back on Chronos. His handsome lips blew more clouds of fragrant smoke.
“Could we stay here forever?” She asked, with her usual nervous fingers dancing on his bare chest.
Chronos laughed.
“Oh, my dear. I’d wish to keep you forever, but even I’m not almighty. I can wield time, but I’m not its master. No, your task is not done yet. Oh no… don’t ask me, please!”
Chronos guessed her next question, because every question she had asked him before. Yet he answered patiently every time. El gave a heavy sigh and closed her eyes. Their time was up again.
~
Cold water flowed into her mouth, and strong current dragged her onward as a heavy stone pulled her down.
“Drown the witch! Drown the witch!” The villagers chanted.
El kept her head above a tiny second longer. Maybe somebody…?
No. Not a single one…
She coughed, choked on the sweet waters, struggled for a breath. El hated drowning even more than burning. She drew her last breath before submerging, Chronos held her and both flew away, through darkness and countless fiery stars.
“Chronos, how much longer?”
“Be patient, my beautiful,” he said as he held her naked body tighter. Edith Piaf’s hiccups resounded through the room like desperate sobs. El sighed and got up to put the record away. She closed her eyes, holding Chronos’ forever-young body tighter until she felt the usual time pull. Her body warped and swirled, travelling to yet another unfortunate mission as ‘the Witch’.
Oh, no. This time a rock flew toward her head, smashing it to bloody bone shards. Stoning to death?! How archaic! The pain was unbearable, when Chronos took her away.
~
“I’m tired, Chronos! When will it end?”
He exhaled smoke with a heavy sigh.
“I wish you wouldn’t have to suffer, dear El, but you must. You were chosen because you’re strong.”
“I don’t want to be strong anymore.”
He kissed her gently. El looked into his eyes. Sea-green, the same as hers. It was the strangest colour, but those capable of wielding time were all gifted with sea-green eyes.
Chronos smiled. “I didn’t plan this,” he said.
“What?”
“You. Me. Paris. Edith.” He laughed because the record did its usual trick. Edith Piaf hiccupped melodiously, and El knew their time was almost up.
“What if we stay here a bit longer?”
“Dear El, this tiny little pocket in the time-stream cannot be changed. It’s all we have, and I’m… grateful for it.” Chronos whispered the last words with tears in his eyes.
“So am I…” El replied snuggling under his arm. One last kiss. Then she was gone, off to another lifetime of suffering…
Beautifully written pain and sadness.
It's a beautiful, yet poignant story. That poor El.
It would make an epic quest, for someone to free her from time.
Or just one set of sympathetic eyes.