Eve was wiping down the last of the tables at the end of the long Saturday shift in her cafe on Great Western Road when the woman, all long hair and feminine wiles, wheeled in with her dogs, or perhaps children, strangely hairy children if so, and paused, staring at the remainder of the days' sweets — there weren't very many now as Eve had taken most of the ones that were out-of-date but still good to eat to be packaged up for the homeless shelter — before dropping her shoulders and making as if to leave, the children running about on all fours around her wheelchair, so Eve called out before the other woman reached the door, "Our selection is limited because it's the end of the day, but I have some stuff out the back still, if you want something that isn't available," although Eve feared she hadn't heard her until one of the maybe-dogs barked something sounding suspiciously like language, at which point the woman turned towards her, who continued, "I can give you whatever want for free, as you've come in just as I was about to close the doors so I'm not actually required to charge you anything, and the till is off anyway, so why make not make both our lives a little better," and I want you to stay, Eve didn't add, as she had felt a brightness spark in her chest reminiscient of when she first saw her own reflection in that glorious pond soon after her birth — she wanted to look at this woman forever, wanted to touch her face and smile and converse with her, felt drawn towards instinctually more than she had initially been with dear Adam, wanted to smooth the pain lines around her eyes and share their life stories together.
The other woman turned back into the cafe, wheeling around while expertedly avoiding her childrens' paws even as they flocked around her, and looked over at Eve, who did smile but then began rearranging the table's cultery, trying to hide her frantic energy because it felt like she'd just seen, in this stranger's face, a long-lost sister or lover whom she wanted to embrace, "I saw the other day, as I walked past with my son," she indicated outside, and not at any of her dogs in the cafe, "strawberry tartlets on the menu — they are my absolute favourite, but I didn't want to buy any then as he, my son, would have eaten them all — you know how boys are with their insatiable appetites — so I have managed to sneak away for a moment's respite to get some for myself, and perhaps these runts, if they behave, but only if they aren't the chocolate covered ones," she said, indicating what Eve had apparently mistaken for small dogs but where clearly toddlers, each now sitting with rapt attention towards their mother.
One of the children wagged their tail as Eve nodded, smiled, and with great effort managed to walk into the back room, although every step away from the woman felt like that first day when she'd been called away from her own reflection by that voice, ultimately to be lead towards Adam, and had not wanted to leave, yet obeyed anyway, and here there was not even a voice to pull her away, only her desire to please guests as a good host, which lead her to carefully package up four of the best strawberry tarts with extra whipped oat cream, and walk back out to hand the box to the woman, who took one for herself and laid the opened box on the floor, where her dogs, dressed in jumpsuits, dove at the remaining tarts, then she took one of Eve's hands in her own, "I cannot recall ever meeting you before, my love, but you feel so familiar, like my reflection fully seen for the first time and not in some puddle of water; I wish we had met long ago before certain events tied me down," at which point she kicked one of the dogs, who yelped but continued stuffing strawberry tart into its face with its hands, "We could have been goddesses together, but, please, let us become friends; alas, I must go now, my son will wonder where I have been - know I will be back, but until then I hope you will write to me!" She took her hand delicately from Eve's, letting her fingers trail over her palm, and wheeled out of the cafe, the dogs trotting after her on two legs as they licked the remains of the tarts off their hands, and Eve wanted to reach out to her but instead looked at what had been left in her hand — a small, off-white calling card with a name and number on it:
Minerva "Sin" Djöfulsinsdóttir
— 666 65000 —
I always write such long sentences for 3 Sentence Ficathon things, and have embraced the liberal use of the em-dash!
Also available on AO3 here - https://archiveofourown.org/works/38605464
Strawberry Tartlets, Sin/Eve (Paradise Lost)
Eve was wiping down the last of the tables at the end of the long Saturday shift in her cafe on Great Western Road when the woman, all long hair and feminine wiles, wheeled in with her dogs, or perhaps children, strangely hairy children if so, and paused, staring at the remainder of the days' sweets — there weren't very many now as Eve had taken most of the ones that were out-of-date but still good to eat to be packaged up for the homeless shelter — before dropping her shoulders and making as if to leave, the children running about on all fours around her wheelchair, so Eve called out before the other woman reached the door, "Our selection is limited because it's the end of the day, but I have some stuff out the back still, if you want something that isn't available," although Eve feared she hadn't heard her until one of the maybe-dogs barked something sounding suspiciously like language, at which point the woman turned towards her, who continued, "I can give you whatever want for free, as you've come in just as I was about to close the doors so I'm not actually required to charge you anything, and the till is off anyway, so why make not make both our lives a little better," and I want you to stay, Eve didn't add, as she had felt a brightness spark in her chest reminiscient of when she first saw her own reflection in that glorious pond soon after her birth — she wanted to look at this woman forever, wanted to touch her face and smile and converse with her, felt drawn towards instinctually more than she had initially been with dear Adam, wanted to smooth the pain lines around her eyes and share their life stories together.
The other woman turned back into the cafe, wheeling around while expertedly avoiding her childrens' paws even as they flocked around her, and looked over at Eve, who did smile but then began rearranging the table's cultery, trying to hide her frantic energy because it felt like she'd just seen, in this stranger's face, a long-lost sister or lover whom she wanted to embrace, "I saw the other day, as I walked past with my son," she indicated outside, and not at any of her dogs in the cafe, "strawberry tartlets on the menu — they are my absolute favourite, but I didn't want to buy any then as he, my son, would have eaten them all — you know how boys are with their insatiable appetites — so I have managed to sneak away for a moment's respite to get some for myself, and perhaps these runts, if they behave, but only if they aren't the chocolate covered ones," she said, indicating what Eve had apparently mistaken for small dogs but where clearly toddlers, each now sitting with rapt attention towards their mother.
One of the children wagged their tail as Eve nodded, smiled, and with great effort managed to walk into the back room, although every step away from the woman felt like that first day when she'd been called away from her own reflection by that voice, ultimately to be lead towards Adam, and had not wanted to leave, yet obeyed anyway, and here there was not even a voice to pull her away, only her desire to please guests as a good host, which lead her to carefully package up four of the best strawberry tarts with extra whipped oat cream, and walk back out to hand the box to the woman, who took one for herself and laid the opened box on the floor, where her dogs, dressed in jumpsuits, dove at the remaining tarts, then she took one of Eve's hands in her own, "I cannot recall ever meeting you before, my love, but you feel so familiar, like my reflection fully seen for the first time and not in some puddle of water; I wish we had met long ago before certain events tied me down," at which point she kicked one of the dogs, who yelped but continued stuffing strawberry tart into its face with its hands, "We could have been goddesses together, but, please, let us become friends; alas, I must go now, my son will wonder where I have been - know I will be back, but until then I hope you will write to me!" She took her hand delicately from Eve's, letting her fingers trail over her palm, and wheeled out of the cafe, the dogs trotting after her on two legs as they licked the remains of the tarts off their hands, and Eve wanted to reach out to her but instead looked at what had been left in her hand — a small, off-white calling card with a name and number on it:
Minerva "Sin" Djöfulsinsdóttir — 666 65000 —
I always write such long sentences for 3 Sentence Ficathon things, and have embraced the liberal use of the em-dash! Also available on AO3 here - https://archiveofourown.org/works/38605464