Ergo, the Ogre

Author: Ergo, the Ogre

  • The Queen of Swords | Lions & Spiders

    The Queen of Swords | Lions & Spiders

    Arielle did not fit in well with her family and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

    While she weaved gorgeous rugs on her loom, every other rug would inexplicably turn into a spider web. Of course, a ready-made spider web was an invitation for arachnids to move in, which they did.

    Unfortunately, everyone in Arielle’s family was an arachnophobe, except her. She was not afraid of spiders in the least. In fact, she kind of liked them.

    She had to work, so quitting weaving altogether was out. People paid good money for the rugs that weren’t spider webs.

    That evening they had a family meeting and talked about it. The decision was made that Arielle would do her weaving in the forest rather than at home. It was a hassle hauling her loom back & forth every day, but there was peace in the family, and no one was fearful.

    There was just one thing that bothered Arielle. She overheard her parents say that she would likely never find a husband. Who in the world would want to live amongst spiders? Her mother went on to say that Arielle didn’t look like anyone in the family. Perhaps they brought the wrong baby home.

    She’d show them. Spiders were not necessarily a deal-breaker. There had to be someone out there who could overlook spiders and focus on her.

    One day as Arielle was weaving a rug in the forest, a stranger came up behind her and watched for a while. Finally, he spoke, and she turned around, and there stood the most handsome, muscular and gorgeous man she’d ever seen.     

    Over the course of their conversation, it was discovered that he thought spiders were cute, and she did not find the lion skin he wore the least bit malodorous. It was a match made in Mount Olympus.

    They made a date for that evening, and the rest, as they say, is history.

  • A Very Bad Year

    A Very Bad Year

    It’s time for Missy’s MAD Challenge #039. Click here to join in.

    Every week, a creative prompt will be offered for you to unleash your imagination and artistic skills. You can share your response in the form of art or any creative expression that the prompt inspires.

    There are no restrictions and no deadlines, so feel free to take your time and enjoy the creative process.

    Remember to label your response with #missysmadchallenge.

    Your challenge for the week:

    • What I should have said in the beginning

    When husband #1 proposed I should’ve said, “Not no, but hell no!” And then I should’ve run as far away from him as I could.

    But no, I said yes because I was afraid not to. He was a violent and cruel individual in addition to being a complete waste of human flesh. I was only 19 and he was 38. I know, I know, what was I thinking? I was afraid he’d kill me or do permanent damage. Back then, cops couldn’t do anything about domestic violence. They would come, look around, and then leave. That was it.

    Finally, after 9 long months of hell, I told him straight up: “I’d rather be dead than married to you so go ahead & do whatever it is you’re gonna do because I filed for divorce today.”

    Nothing happened. He didn’t do anything but clean out the bank account.

    We’d gotten married on November 1, and the divorce weas final October 28. So, it wasn’t even a year.

    He died about five years ago and I am living happily ever after.

  • Decisions, Decisions

    Decisions, Decisions

    It’s time once again for Fandango’s Story Starter. This week our sentence is Sharon reluctantly realized that the only way to salvage her relationship with Arthur would be to…

    Sharon reluctantly realized that the only way to salvage her relationship with Arthur would be to stop seeing her boyfriend, Lucas. The solution sounded simple enough except for one thing. She was in love with Lucas. To make things even more complicated, Sharon was also still in love with Arthur. But it was two different kinds of love.

    She and Arthur shared an old, deep type of love. They’d been together for years — thirty of them. The excitement was gone but they still had fun together and truly liked one another. Finding out about Lucas broke Arthur’s heart. Sharon felt awful about it, but she should’ve been more careful. Unless there was a part of her that wanted him to know. Hmmm. That theory deserves a bit more thought.

    Now, where Lucas was concerned, things were a bit more complicated. Lucas was 13 years her junior, handsome, virile — he was the perfect boyfriend. She knew it wouldn’t last forever; the age difference at their ages was too great. The more she thought about it, she and Lucas were wasting each other’s time.

    However, he was the father of her child, which obviously threw a monkey wrench into the situation.

    No way could she pass the kid off as Arthur’s. They hadn’t had sex in years. She also knew Lucas wasn’t the least bit interested in starting a family with her, or anyone else. He was either going to be a model or a race car driver. He changed his mind from day to day.

    The way Sharon saw it, the only chance of saving her marriage would be if Arthur agreed to raise Lucas’ child as his own.

    That was a lot to ask, she knew.

    But, no guts, no glory. “Arthur? Can we talk?”

  • Six of Pentacles | Animal Rites

    Six of Pentacles | Animal Rites

    It was no secret that Hughie had a monster-crush on Andre, but no one talked about it. To the ancient Greeks, same-sex relationships were a rite of passage — kind of like cow-tipping and snipe hunting. These are things one does as a teenager, but rarely if ever did these activities continue to adulthood.

    That said, Hughie had been working on a surprise for Andre for months. He was crafting a lyre made from a tortoise shell. Andre was lyre-player extraordinaire so Hughie thought this would be the perfect gift for him. Plus, it will show Andre how deep Hughie’s feelings truly are for him and that this was not simply a fleeting crush. Hughie means business.

    After six months of toiling in his father’s garage, the lyre was finally finished and ready to present to Andre. Hughie slipped on his old PF Flyers and flew post haste to the olive tree that had become their meeting place. Andre was waiting for him in his best red toga — the toga that drove Hughie absolutely wild with desire.

    As Hughie landed, he noticed Andre’s brow was furrowed and he was frowning.

    “What the hell is that?” Andre inquired.

    Hughie was perplexed at Andre’s reaction. “Why, it is a gift for you, my love.” Hughie explained. “Why are you angry? Do you not like it?”

    “That depends,” Andre replied shortly. “Is that a real tortoise shell from a real tortoise?”

    Hughie smiled broadly. “Why, yes, it is. Only the best for you my sweetest!”

    “I see. And was the tortoise still using it at the time?”

    “Uh, well, yes.” Hughie was beginning to sense Andre’s rage but had no idea what was causing it.

    “So, what you’re saying is that you ripped the shell from the tortoise’s back and left him there to die, just so you could make that stupid lyre.”

    “Umm. Yeah,” Hughie mumbled. That’s pretty much it.”

    “How could you be so cruel, so crass‽”

    “I, I don’t understand.”

    “Animals have feelings, too!” Andre explained. “How do you think that poor creature felt when you ripped his shell off his back like some kind of a cretin?”

    “Ummm. I, I don’t know,” Hughie stammered. “I didn’t think …”

    “Obviously.” Andre fumed. “Get that thing out of my sight! And take yourself with it!”

    And thus, ended yet another rite of passage.

    There is a happy ending to this sad story, however. Hughie grew up to become the first Animal Rights Activist of Ancient Greece while Andre became a veterinarian.

  • 3TC #MM42 | The Intervention

    3TC #MM42 | The Intervention

    Welcome to the daily Three Things Challenge.
    Use your imagination and creativity using one, two or all three words that may or may not be related. There are no restrictions regarding length, style, or genre, though please keep it family friendly.

    Tag your responses with 3TC, #threethingschallenge or TTC, and you can add Di’s logo if you wish.

    pink rose

    Looking forward to reading your responses.

    Your three words today are:
    HEAVE
    STRAIN
    STRUGGLE

    After a wild weekend of non-stop partying Marcus had the dry heaves on Monday morning. This was nothing new as most Monday mornings started out with Marcus kneeling before the toilet bowl and retching. He retched so hard this time that he strained is esophagus…or something.

    It hurt like hell.

    Clearly, Marcus struggled with alcohol. He knew it, his family and friends knew it, and most every bartender in town knew it. The trouble was, Marcus didn’t care. He’d gone through rehab a couple of times — just to appease them and get them off his back — and of course it didn’t take. Marcus didn’t want to quit drinking or explore the reasons booze was #1 in his life. He simply wanted to be left alone.

    But this was not to be. Tuesday evening when he came home from work, there were several cars parked in his drive and an along the street.

    Am I having a party I forgot about?

    He went inside, half expecting to see a keg and all of his friends. But no. There were his parents, friends, a couple of bartenders he knew but couldn’t place, and some people he didn’t recognize.

    It was an intervention and Marcus was pissed.

    One of them started talking, introductions or some such, but Marcus didn’t wait. His hand was in his pocket; fingers curled around the butt of .38.

    He cocked it, eased it out of his and shot himself in the head.

    Brains splattered his mom and everybody.

    He felt bad about that.