Gryphon Delivers Pizza (Otherwise Untitled)
#10 of Short Stories
A gryphon delivers pizza in the rain.
~ The gryphon leaned over a bit, to give her Geo Metro's cassette deck a frustrated whack. She was still cold from the rain, tired from the road, and stung by the eagle's words. Chilled rain makes evenings popular for delivered pizzas, and this had been a long one for the hen. The music warbled back up into action, the soothing tones of Roy Orbison belting out valiantly against the roar of the rain.
~ Lurching to a stop for the red light, the hen had another moment without the distractions of keeping the Metro in the correct gear and direction of travel. The eagle's taunts and slurs crept back into her thoughts, She sighed. It was enough of a shame to park her rattlebox of rust and dents amongst the rich folks' costly elegance and chrome; the meager tip she recieved did little to temper the drunked tirade from the middle-aged eagle. It was all she could do to hold her tongue, process the card, and walk back into the rain where her tears would be concealed.
~ Coaxing her car back into gear for the green light, she let slip a few more angry swears from her beak and across her tongue. A few bits of dashboard tried to spark up into flame; her willpower declined to sustain them. She would not be following any of the fool's advice. Even if she was inclined, the wages of pizza delivery fell far short of booking passage to the more magical lands he had mistaken for her home. She was born and raised in this land; this evening in particular she was already practically home and would be properly so with one more delivery, a bit of luck, and whatever remained of the quart of oil she had fed the engine two days prior.
~ Patiently lingering on the evening's final porch, the gryphon's feathers had returned to a matted mess about her face and wings. The hen counted the time by how far up her legs the water had soaked into her fur, her feathers having long since abandoned any pretense of keeping her warm against the soak. An antelope answered the door, smiling. Her hunch of veggie pizza for an herbivore held; silently score one for the gryphon's pizza correlative skills. Her boasts to coworkers would come sometime tomorrow.
~ It wasn't until she was turning back towards her car, empty pizza sleeve under an arm, that catbird realized what had been missing from the interaction. The antelope was polite, yes. But didn't seem afraid. Didn't tense up or make some minor warding motion on seeing her. The antelope hadn't encountered a feather witch ambushing him for his soul tonight, and saw only a pizza delivery as fresh and warm as the driver was not. The gryphon smiled a bit, sparking up a small magelight to help walk to her car.