After Hours
3 a.m. No chance of any hapless customer wandering into the entrance of Hell, so the pool table at Lucien’s Bar transformed into a poker round. Clotho sat between Death and Michael; Lucien, Chronos and War took the other spots.
The bartender took everyone’s order, returning with peanuts, chocolates, carrot sticks and sardines.
The game had been lively, a progressive back and forth of winners, when War threw down his cards in disgust.
“You’re cheating again, Lucien!”
“Of course he is,” Clotho said. She gently nudged a mouthful of feathers away with a mute apology to Michael and lit her own slim cigar. “You’re such a poor sport.”
Chronos felt something caressing his leg, winding its way up under his robe. It was quite pleasant – and distracting – but he wasn’t sure if it was harmful or not.
“Lucien, is something under the table with us?”
“Oh, that’s just Jezebel. Is she playing with you?”
Chronos knocked his chair over backwards trying to stand up. “You didn’t tell me she was here. I would have worn undergarments.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know you were Scottish.”
“Come here, sweetheart.” Death reached down and plucked the creature up, winding her around his neck. “No flesh for you to sink your tentacles into.”
The creature’s eyes flashed red but settled down once Death grabbed a sardine out of War’s bowl of munchies and popped it into her mouth. She soon fell asleep on his clavicle, her tentacles winding around his ribs for balance.
“So, are you in?” Michael grinned over at War, who grumbled but picked his cards back up and tossed a chip into the pot.
Trying hard to focus on the game and not on how close he’d come to being maimed, Chronos studied his cards.
“Time, the rest of us haven’t got a lot of it,” Clotho chided. “Are you going to play?”
“Oh, sorry. I’m in.” He tossed a chip and watched it hover in the air. The hourglass on his belt had a tentacle wrapped around it, causing time to sputter and spurt. He sighed and bit into a carrot stick for distraction.
“That does it for me,” Michael said. He laid down a full house and started to reach for the pile of chips. “It’s almost dawn. Back to work.”
“Not so fast,” Clotho said. She spread out a royal flush with a triumphant smile. “Pay up, Lucien.”
He gritted his teeth and signaled the bartender. A box appeared in her hands. She leaned over and gave him an air kiss before throwing a thread and traveling out.
Death chuckled at Evil’s look of consternation. “What are you going to do when your stock of Sumerian cigars run out?”
Lucien groaned. “Quit inviting her to play poker, I guess.”
And who would he invite in her stead?
I would have thought that 3am was peak hour at the doors of both Heaven and Hell given the numbers of people who slip away in the small hours. And then I realised that processing takes time. The more things change….
Hi EC! Well, the bar is for Lucien to trap live people.
Laura, I love your stories– such vivid images and fantastic, fun writing. I look forward to each little ditty. So darkly amusing.
Thanks, Julie! The boys are flattered.
Odd selection of snacks! Of course, odd selection of characters around that poker table!
It’s all odd, Alex.
I love the originality of your writing. Everything from the crazy snacks to interesting characters.
Thanks, Ciara. Somehow, War eating sardines cracks me up.
I agree your writing is original and leaves you wanting more.
Thanks, Savannah! I hope you’re feeling better with the new year.
I’d been wondering if I was ever going to get some description of Jezebel — I presume this is the same one who makes the punch for Mistress Snark? Love it!
The one and the same, Erin!
Erin, from what I’ve been able to piece together from the hints of Jezebel we’ve seen here and there, I don’t want a detailed description!
I’d never sleep again.
Hee hee!
Fabulous! I love it.
Thanks, Buffy! Welcome back to bloggyville.
i love these hilarious stories. I’m still waiting for your anthology of Chronos and other god stories to come out
Nutschell
http://www.thewritingnut.com
Hi Nutschell! I’m hoping my brain will keep writing these stories long enough to have a large collection to publish.
I hope they’re not mixing the sardines and carrots with the chocolate. lol on the undergarments and Scottish. I don’t know how you think up these little gems every week, but I sure enjoy reading them.
Thank you, Mary! I think one of them does dip the sardines in the chocolate sauce…
Smiling. Jezebel was so close.
She’s such a troublemaker, Carol.
How appropriate that Clotho, the spinner of the thread of life and therefore the Fate who determines the time of one’s birth, should beat these guys at poker, and with a royal flush no less. I didn’t miss your sneaky “throwing a thread,” Laura. Can I suggest a guest to take her place? Her older sister, Atropos, the fate whose “abhorred shears” cut the thread of life and who therefore determines the manner of one’s death. She’d fit in very nicely with War, Evil, Death, and Time. And I’m sure she’d love Jezebel’s punch as much as I did.
Atropos can’t come to the poker games, Ron. Although she would fit in quite nicely, all the guys are afraid of her.
Wow. She even scares War, Death, Evil, and Time? She’s one powerful woman, I’d say. When I see her and her shears coming for me, I’m running like hell! (More probably, to hell.)
*snort* Lucien will be happy to have you join him at the poker table, Ron. Yes, Atropos is the only one capable of cutting the threads of the immortals. They all shudder around her.
Hi Laura .. love the thought of Jezebel sneaking up a leg – then lack of undergarments – dangerous thing to be without at the witching hour of dark-daylight …
Love these posts – Chronos stopping time … or holding off for a while – I must just grab some more of it, while my going is good … cheers but from a bar of life .. not Chronos’ waiting one …. Hilary
Yeah, I’d stay out of that particular bar, Hilary.
Wouldn’t it be nice to stop time whenever we wanted so we could catch up?
You paint scenes so vividly, Laura. I feel like I’m there with them. Loved it.
Thanks, Ellie! Ah, the aroma of sardines…
The thought of Jezebel coiled near my legs would be enough to get me away from the poker table for sure.
And you’d be smart to do so, Patricia!
I wondered about the sardines – but then came Jezebel. Sardines don’t seem to be War’s kind of snack – but what would I know. I can totally see Jezebel eating them – alive preferably.
A fun late-night visit with the crew, Laura. You have a deft hand with their personalities.
Nice work, as always.
War is a complicated personality, Kevin…and I never said the sardines were dead, now did I?