Monday February 20th, 2017

The exercise:

Write a: follow-up.

For some reason The Crossing has been on my mind recently, so I'll be following-up with the gang to see what they're up to after their three day adventure back in late May of 2015. Please don't feel like you need to go that far back as well - any follow-up will do just fine.

I was feeling better yesterday, so I stopped taking my sinus medication. It felt like I was regressing today, so now I'm back on the pills.

I won't bother telling you how much this displeases me, as I think you've got the idea by now.


"We are long past your promised two days, Mongrel," Famine called from the rear of the group. They were on a narrow trail through a thickly wooded forest, riding their horses in single file. "I am beginning to fear that you may have lost the scent of our prey."

There was a lengthy delay before War responded. The others suspected that he was struggling to contain his legendary temper.

"Then worry not, Fame," War said at last. "They are simply moving faster than I could have predicted. I believe that they are going without sleep, running both day and night."

"That seems... unsustainable," Death observed.

"Not for us," Pestilence added with the ghost of a laugh.

"Exactly, Pest," War said. "Exactly."

The four horsemen rode on in silence, bored eyes scanning the trees for signs of anything remotely interesting. The pursuit had lasted much longer than any of them had expected when their assignment had begun and they were growing eager to return home.

"Perhaps we should stop for a rest," Death suggested, taking the others completely off guard. "So that we are refreshed and ready for the confrontation when it finally comes."

"Are you feeling okay?" Famine asked before shaking his head as though trying to clear away a fog. "You know what I mean, Dee."

"This voyage continues to get stranger and stranger," Pestilence added, sounding untypically puzzled.

"There's a clearing up ahead," War called back. "Let us stop there for a few moments to gather ourselves." He rode on for a few more steps before adding under his breath, "Before we completely fall apart..."


Greg said...

Sinus pills are not the worst thing to be taking. Unless they work by containing a large amount of morphine so that you don't care how blocked your sinuses are any more, in which case you should probably stop taking... oh. In which case you probably can't stop taking them and there's nothing I can say that will change that. So... put them in a tic-tac container so no-one knows about your addiction and never, ever share :)
Hmm, nice to see the Four Horsemen back, and it's always nice when you continue a story from a while ago! It sounds like these guys are having rather more trouble than I'd expect, given who they are, and it intrigues me all the more now to see who they're pursuing who's managing to throw them off like this! I especially like the pet names War seems to have for them all :)

I clicked at random into your side-bar, and so I'm continuing this today it seems. What really surprised me here is that I've been writing about Miss Snippet for... six years?!

Miss Davenport covered her mouth, and might have been hiding a smile. By the time Miss Snippet looked back at her though her hand was back at her side and her face was firmly under her control.
"I'm so sorry," she said. "I have no idea where that dog could have come from."
"It doesn't matter," said Miss Snippet. "I didn't really want to leave him down there anyway."
Miss Davenport's face darkened with a frown. "You mean he was in the hole?" She started forwards, but one of Miss Snippet's class was already stood outside the door holding a shovel in a fashion that could have been called aggressive if they were older. She halted.
"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies," said Miss Snippet.
Miss Davenport's jaw tightened. "Fine. Fine," she said. "No questions. So, I put it to you, Miss Snippet, that that dog belongs to whoever you had a date with last night and that while the dog has escaped the hole, his owner hasn't. Miss Snippet, that's murder!"
For a moment neither woman spoke: outside there was the sound of earth being shovelled industriously into a damp hole, and what might have been a faint "Help!". The child with the shovel stood motionless outside the door like a tiny soldier. A light drizzle started, greying the outside light and making the world seem as though it was seen from underwater.
"No," said Miss Snippet gently. "It's justice."
"It's not justice! It's just you!"
The dog pushed past the guard at the door and trotted in. Miss Davenport glanced at it and then looked at Miss Snippet. A moment later she double-took. "That's a seeing-eye dog! You dated a blind man?"
"At an art gallery," said Miss Snippet, irony heavy in her words. "Where all the pictures were themed around imaginary objects, so they can't even be adequately described if you can't see them. One of the rules was that there was absolute silence amongst the exhibits. It was exquisitely beautiful, and that idiot ruined it all. He's lucky I let him drive me home."
Miss Davenport made small choking sounds, utterly lost for words.
"And now," said Miss Snippet with a sigh, "I am sorry Deidre, but I can't have you going around calling me a murderer you know. It would ungrammatical of you. Let's get your coat and I'll show you round our latest building site. It's incredibly exciting, if by exciting you mean dangerous."

Marc said...

Greg - the pills themselves aren't that bad. It's more the still being sick enough to require them thing.

I will still take your advice on the morphine though!

Hah, I remember that one. Has it been six years already?

And this is a fine, suitably Miss Snippet'ish, continuation. The progression here is perfectly timed, and the ending rather morbidly satisfying. Well done!