Thursday October 18th, 2018

The exercise:

Write about: delusions of grandeur.

2 comments:

Greg said...

So, I'm guessing that today's prompt is inspired by you catching on comments to just a week or so behind, and now you're priding yourself on being the world's best comment answerer? [ducks]
I have the dentist again this morning, for probably the last painful bit of the procedure: drilling holes into my jaw for the pins for the crowns that will go on. It's all being done keyhole style apparently, which I guess just means less cleanup :)

Delusions of grandeur
Lady Grace stalked up the path to the Temple. Samual and Tomasz had climbed up the rough stone and hidden themselves behind some crenellations above the front door. The climb was surprisingly easy, and the crenellations were both high and spacious, and Samual found himself looking about and appraising them from a military perspective, wondering why a temple would present such a thing. Below them, wearing a face that was screwed up in obvious anger, Lady Grace inspected the door and found it unlocked and very slightly ajar. She made a noise like a kettle letting off steam and pulled the door violently open. Then she stalked inside, muttering something guttural under her breath. A few seconds later, a lemon yellow glow arose around the entrance, and then faded slightly.
"She acts like it's her property," said Tomasz. He crept forward and carefully peered around a stone block of the crenellation, careful to keep himself low and his head back. "She's gone inside," he reported.
"Is she really a Lady? Or is that just a delusion of grandeur?" asked Samual. He had moved to the back of their hiding place and was looking carefully around.
"She introduced herself as Lady Grace," said Tomasz, "and Dignity never corrected her."
"So probably not," said Samual. "Hey, look at this."

The yellow smoke thickened and Lord Derby instinctively held his breath. It billowed up around him, spreading out from a central column like a mushroom cap, and then got denser. Over a period of a minute it seemed to condense and solidify until he could recognise St. James's Palace and Whitehall. The smoke hung impossibly in place as buildings, trees, and roads formed out of its mass.
Confluence of interest came the King's whispery, intrusive voice. It was like feeling a worm sliding around your skull under the skin, knowing it was hunting for a way past the bone and into your brain. Disassembly of the assembly, a new treaty after entreaties.
Lord Derby took a tentative breath, unwilling to breath any of this oddly solid smoke. The scene fell apart, but quickly reformed, and he recognised Paris as the Seine took shape and landmarks arose.
Movement in a positive direction whispered the King. Royalty arising through boons and beneficence.
"My doctor gets very annoyed when I'm late," said Lord Derby.

Elizabeth sat on the only chair in her rooms staring at the wall, thinking about everything that Lord Vileburn had told her.
"I hate it," she whispered, and again, "I hate it," putting venom into her words. She stood, then made herself sit down again. Pacing and giving into anger wouldn't help.
"I hate it. But it makes sense. Even though I hate it. A bigger picture, what he said is that there's always a bigger picture. So you work out what the biggest picture you're part of is, and you take the appropriate actions. But then people get away with things in the little pictures. How can that be right?"

Marc said...

Greg - ha ha ha.

Inspired by the two candidates who had zero hope of actually getting elected locally. That was my thinking at the time, anyway. One of them came far closer than I would have thought. Still nowhere near getting on council, but still.

Really enjoyed this entry. All three segments. I think perhaps Derby's most, but the opening was excellent as well.