Friday Fiction: 100 Word Challenge

Friday Fiction: 100 Word Challenge

Friday Fiction: 100 Word Challenge

A quote: “There is no austerity equal to a balanced mind, and there is no happiness equal to contentment; there is no disease like covetousness, and no virtue like mercy.” ~~ Chanakya

I’ll start with a story …

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Aphrodite quickly grew tired of Nikaia, one of her more fervent worshippers. Delighted by the young girl’s ardent prayers, as Nikaia grew older she grew more demanding in her vanity.

Except silent Hestia kept watch. It wasn’t vanity, but fear of growing old that drove Nikaia. Fear that overshadowed a husband’s love, a child’s need.

Husband was out in the fields and Nikaia, distracted, missed when the fire started. Fear fell away as she rescued her child, heedless as she burned.

Hestia granted one boon, for Nikaia to visit at the autumnal equinox for as long as her line remembered.

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Now, it’s your turn.
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. featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock, standard license.

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2 Comments
  • John Anderson says:

    The same worn paths and the same wasted pursuits. Though pumpkin-hued beauty surrounded Autumn, the ground she trod trembled under the weight of death and decay. All previous attempts to restore the landscape its pristine glory eluded every compulsive attempt to conquer both wind and rain. It raked at her nerves; Autumn’s resolve began to fall. Then she remembered…the dress!

    A mountain of black silk and crinoline just piled on the floor, but draped over the graceful mast of her slender frame the dress billowed like a main sail in the cool breeze. It also sucked up all the leaves.

  • lila says:

    Sweeping an inky tress from her face, she gazed at the children reveling beneath the maples. She almost rested her chin in her hand when she stopped, realizing it’d disturb the talcum powder obscuring her wrinkles.

    Little voices chattered of pressing the leaves between wax sheets, freezing the brilliant hues in time. They thought neither of spring nor the crystalline adornment of boughs to come, only what lay before them. Those would arrive, certainly, but it’d be madness to dream away the present.

    “I was beautiful, once,” thought she, nearly realizing the most awful thing to covet is one’s self.

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