This post is in response to the Cinnamon Cup Coffee Creative Fiction Prompt. Get on it: @cinnccf/stb-contest-7-and-wk-6-winner-video-announcement
Lucy was a young woman who considered herself a role model to others. She would always look left and right when crossing the road and she had never received a traffic infringement notice. She would strut around the shopping malls where she lived, exuding an air of confidence which did not just come from her matching hair accessories, but a genuine belief in her own goodness and moral imperative to live well. Of course, she had her bad days where she just couldn’t get her fringe to sit right on her forehead, or when she happened to feel in an extravagant mood and would purchase two candy bars for herself – but these flaws, as she considered them, were all about maintaining the façade and keeping her secret secure. Afterall, what would people say about her bright demeanour if they knew she harbored some terrible secret; if they knew she harbored a monster? It was better for them to focus on her fringe.
The idea that she would be unmasked as a fraud caused Lucy considerable anxiety, and while her frown lines were not yet formed, this was perhaps due to a sound beauty routine which embraced hyaluronic acids to keep her skin hydrated, rather than good genes. Lucy was constantly worried that her pet monster, Arty, would be discovered living under her bed. Of course, during the day Arty could come out and roam about her small apartment, but Lucy was conscious to keep the curtains drawn. Curiously, Lucy had been able to keep Arty a secret from the world for many years now, and she had grown entirely fond of him. She had tried to make him leave last Winter, but found she could not bring herself to the edge of the precipice of closing the front door. Instead then, she lived in fear of what the neighbours would say about her – and then how her friends would judge her – and then the faces the strangers would make as they called her ‘That woman’ in a disparaging tone and offer rumours of the way she lived a grotesque existence with the monster.
And then, two simple words with the power to change Lucy’s world. And then… It happened one Thursday afternoon. Lucy had arrived home from working her shift at the bakery; she was exhausted from having been on her feet all day, but was delighted that some croissants had been left in the shop window at closing, and she’d certainly felt glee to be loading them into her bag to take home. Tonight was her big night; she had a date with a young suitor who had introduced himself as ‘Beau’, and had suggested a night of Thai food and cinema. The propriety in the question had left Lucy blushing, and she had felt more than eager to accept the young suitor’s invitation. Looking from her bag of croissants to her watch, Lucy’s mouth opened in surprise. She had less than twelve minutes until she had hoped to have a knock on her door.
Frantically, Lucy filled the kettle and headed into the bedroom to change. She had a pastel dress with a modest bust line that she knew would be perfect, as the hem line would insist she was interested in a second date. Despite her exhaustion then, she quickly touched up her face and gave Arty a few elated phrases describing her day. She could tell, however, that the little monster, whose lolling purple tongue was hanging out, was more hungry than interested in her recounting stories of customers. Lucy told him sternly, ‘I will feed you in a minute’. Although, ‘feed’ was probably the wrong word, as she had discovered that Arty’s entire diet consisted solely of coffee. This was one of the benefits of owning a monster, instead of a dog, given the exorbitant cost of dog treats – and, as an added benefit, she would compost the coffee grounds at her mother’s house, where she found that the additional material helped produce a richer soil quality for growing vegetables! But, as Lucy looked back to her wrist and began to panic, she knew she had to be quick. She had rushed a decision not to give Arty his evening meal only once, and she came back to her apartment hearing moans and groans which certainly made the neighbours offer each other sensational gossip. She would not put herself in that position again!
Grabbing a jar of instant coffee from the back of her cupboard, she quickly mixed a spoonful with two teaspoons of sugar, added a dash of milk, and poured it into Arty’s bowl. The grey bowl, decorated with images of cat faces, had often thrown visitors to Lucy’s apartment, who thought Lucy irresponsible for always claiming that the cat must be wandering some back alley or other, with a nonchalantness that seemed to indicate lack of care. Lucy, feeling increasingly giddy, slid on a pair of matching heels, and headed to the door, as Arty licked up the bowl. And then came the knock; it was a firm knock and suggested Beau was not going to be a timid lover and then Lucy was out the door in a giggle and a skip.
Arriving back hours later, Lucy's heart was aflutter - she was feeling euphoric, which only made what happened next, the 'and then', all the more difficult. Lucy was confronted with the body of Arty laying across the kitchen floor. His lolling tongue now falling from his mouth onto the cold tiles. Lucy looked at the coffee jar on the counter: decaffeinated instant coffee. A poison to both humans and monsters alike. Lucy wondered if she could flush the carcass down the toilet, she knew the smell would certainly attract the neighbours' attention!