The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!
My Piece of the Stars
by Lee Mitchell
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“It really is an ugly, old thing,” said the young woman holding the estate sale. “Mom always had an eye for useless antiques.”
I had to agree that the kettle was a bit unsightly, but there was also a kind of rustic charm to it. The weathered metal surface was patinaed with age, making it stand out among the other random items laid out across the table. Something about the piece spoke to me. I had no idea where I would display it—my place was cluttered enough as it was—but the longer I stood there contemplating, the more I had to have it.
I leaned in for a closer look. “Do you know anything about its history? Where it came from?”
“No idea,” said the woman. “My mom would’ve known.”
Drawing upon assumptions, I felt the need to reply, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
The woman sighed. “My mom is still alive, though I use the word loosely. She fell victim to dementia earlier this year. Came on suddenly, left her unable to do much other than stare out into space. I had no choice but to move her to a care facility.”
“I’m… so sorry.”
“Me too.” Another deep sigh.
We stood in awkward silence for a moment. Finally, I summoned the courage to ask, “How much?”
The woman shrugged. “Five bucks?”
“Sold.” I pulled a five-dollar bill from my wallet and handed it over.
The kettle was heavier than I imagined it would be, leading me to dig into some armchair research over its composition, which turned out to be primarily iron and nickel. I hadn’t expected to find much and was surprised to come across its likeness in a museum archive. The antique had been last spotted on display in Japan, but it had dropped off the radar a few decades ago after falling victim to a major heist.
I learned that the piece had been forged out of metal that had come from a meteor—and the piece itself was priceless. Its discovery dated back to the 17th century, where it changed numerous hands before finding itself in the museum. Legend had it that whoever drank tea from the kettle would gain understanding of the universe’s deepest secrets.
Never one to buy in to folklore or superstition, I dismissed the old tale. I had bought the thing for its quaint aesthetic value, without any thought to its possible utility, anyway. I had no desire to use it. But my priority shifted to finding a way to get it back to its rightful place in Japan. Now that I knew that it was a valuable relic, I had no right to keep it.
I thought to do some digging online to determine who would be the best people to contact, but instead I found myself preoccupied with a sudden nagging question: Was something so old still capable of boiling water?
I knew it was silly, but I couldn’t help myself. I needed to know. As though on autopilot, I filled the kettle. The water held. Instead of emptying it, I moved the antique to my stove and ignited the gas burner. Then: I wonder if the dense metal will heat the water slower or quicker than a conventional kettle?
Slower. It heated slower.
I waited for the water to boil. It took roughly fifteen minutes. As if dumping the contents wasn’t an option, I prepared a teacup and poured in the steaming water. It came out clear, further justifying my incomprehensible need to let the tea steep.
I tried a sip, noting the slight metal tone, and set down the cup. Well, that was silly….
An abrupt dizzy spell sent me rushing to the nearest chair. I seated myself just as my consciousness split, sending one half of me watching over my body as if viewing a movie, while the other half stretched across the cosmos and communed with the stars. I watched galaxies form and dissolve, stars amass and explode, and the very fabric of reality patch itself into being following the Big Bang. I saw the entire evolution of the earth, civilizations rise and fall, life begin and end.
I saw myself, this tiny speck trapped on this miniscule piece of time and space, but my body now seemed so impossibly far away. It was not me anymore, but instead just some person—some tiny person—frozen in a confused gaze.
All the thing could do was stare.
Fiction © Copyright Lee Mitchell.
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
More from Author Lee Mitchell:
Alisha Brown led a mundane life until the day monsters started trying to kill her and random strangers began to shy away from her in awe.
All hell broke loose, quite literally, after Randy Thomas turned right on Main for Honey’s instead of making a left for home and then murdered his beloved wife in an unusually gruesome way. Escaping police and stopping traffic in New York City with a gas-spewing tentacle erupting from his mouth, his fears are confirmed: That one small backslide would serve as the final tipping point for all mankind, inviting in a timeless destructive force that would lead him to the frontlines of the war to end all wars.
A growing population has succumbed to their worst fears, some transforming into dreaded fictional monsters—leaving the streets flooded with vampires, werewolves, spontaneously combusting humans, and other horrors—while others have become angels and demons determined to fight in the holy war they believe is upon them.
Questions soon arise as Randy’s and Alisha’s roles in this bizarre apocalypse become uncertain. One is a professed sinner, the other an asexual virgin. Each has been touched by the hand of fate, and each believes they are humanity’s last hope. But belief can be a funny thing…
The Divine Darkness is the first installment of The Divine Darkness apocalyptic horror trilogy.
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