Gryphon Cooks Potatoes, Part 1 (Otherwise Untitled)
#6 of Short Stories
A gryphon cooks potatoes, and contemplates suicide.
~ Midas stood calmly above the softly crackling skillet of formerly frozen hashbrowns and hot oil. The apartment was fairly close to silent, otherwise. She was alone with her thoughts, and held solitude with her considerations.
~ "It's another turn of the wheel", the gryphon concluded to herself. She was following the well worn path of a conversation repeated to herself so many times before, "..and it's going to keep on turning. I'll be back here, even if I get away." She glanced up from the potatoes to the wall of her living room. A framed image of glistening cactus hung there, the housewarming gift from her father. She recalled moving into the city, following the offer of a job and chasing the promises of a future. She sighed, and prodded at the hashbrowns with her spatula a bit more. She looked over to the prickly image.
~ "If I let you down, you'll have plenty of company", she addressed the stoic symbol of Kirth, goddess of life. A cactus would, generally, remain fairly alive if left to its own devices. The gryphon chuckled meekly, pondering the appropriateness of the symbol. She wondered what species Kirth was, and why she never deigned to reveal it.
~ The potatoes seemed to be as well cooked as they were going to find themselves this evening, and Midas was silent as they were transferred to a plate and approximately seasoned. As was typical of her time alone, nothing interrupted the transit from kitchen to couch and TV tray. Continuing the pattern of her recent evenings, the TV remained silent and dark. The gryphon was alone with her thoughts, and her contemplations wanted to be alone with her.
~ Midas sighed. The potatoes were slightly undercooked. She glanced at the drawer of the TV stand. She couldn't see it, but she remembered what she had stored there. The dull steel of the pistol rested in its drawer with a calm patience. It offered no commentary, waiting for her to falter and decide of her own accord to the merits it offered. It would be there, if she chose to reach for it. She looked back to the image of a cactus, as if hoping for something of encouragement. The paper remained as silent as the pistol.
~ The gryphon's fork got to the bits of potatoes that were slightly overcooked. She enjoyed the crisp of these bits and did not take long to be finished with them. A bit more of the squishy hashbrowns remained, before her meal would be complete. She looked back to the wall, pointedly ignoring the drawer as her gaze held to the image. "If you wanted me to succeed, you shouldn't've created a failure."
~ The evening fell to a calm silence, Midas was alone with her meal. Kirth remained well out of reach.