Word: Natter

 

natter

[ nat-er ]

verb (used without object)

1. to talk incessantly; chatter.

noun

2. a conversation; chat.

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               Ted did not quite understand what was going on. He knew the basics, of course. He was on a bus, and was sitting next to a young woman. That was about where his understanding ended though. The woman had started talking almost as soon as she had sat down.

               She barely paused her seemingly endless chatter, and acted like they were old friends. Ted was barely listening, but it did not seem to matter. The woman was quite content to simply talk about whatever subject was on her mind.

               After only an hour of travel, he knew that she was a vet, owned a large variety of pets (all of whom Ted could now name), her star sign, that she believed in star signs, and the circumstances of the lives of her siblings, parents, and her last boyfriend. And from how she was going, that was just the introduction.

               Ted wanted to do something else. He had a bunch of books on his phone that he had prepared just for this trip. He had music, games, and a nice pillow. But then this woman had sat down, introduced herself as Shelly, and then started giving him her life story. His hand occasionally moved towards his pocket to get his phone, but it felt rude to actually use it.

               It felt like some kind of breach of etiquette in he just started ignoring her. He was pretty much doing that already, but paying attention to something else would make it obvious. Of course, her launching into constant chatter without prompting also felt a bit rude. But which was the worse offense, her talk, or his ignoring said talk? Really, the only saving grace was that she was not speaking very loud. So at least she had the presence of mind not to bother the other passengers too much. Only him, and only because they happened to be sitting next to each other.

               Shelly eventually pulled out her phone, and Ted had a spark of hope. Maybe she was getting bored of the one way conversation. Maybe she needed to rest her voice for a moment. Maybe she simply picked up on his lack of interest. His hopes were soon dashed. She was showing him pictures and videos she had taken. They were not of anything particular. Pictures of her pets. Of her friends and family. Just random things she thought were fun. There were some vacation pictures mixed in, but most of it was just daily life shots.

               Ted put on his best fake smile. Now he really was trapped. He might have been able to gently pull out of the conversation before, but now? Now he had to actually look interested. Now he had to give her the bare minimum of attention. And that meant he could not disengage from the conversation. Now he would just have to tough it out and hope she lost interest.

               He glanced at the clock on her phone. The trip had lasted just over an hour. And he knew that this bus ride would last at least three more hours. The groaned mentally and steeled his nerves. Three more hours. He just hoped his sanity would be able to last that long. 

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I am so glad I've never encountered a situation like this before. Everyone I've sat next to while traveling has been quite content to mind their own business. Which is perfect for me. 

Word: Tyro

tyro

or ti·ro

[ tahy-roh ]

noun,plural ty·ros.

1. a beginner in learning anything; novice.

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               Alic closed his eyes and breathed deep. The book said he had to “feel the rhythm of the world,” but it did not go into detail about what that meant. At first he had thought it had something to do with the wind, but that had done nothing. So now he was left with only vague directions and cryptic clues.

               But that book was his ticket out of the small village. If he could become a mage, then he would be able to do anything. He could travel around and explore all the hidden places in the world. Find ancient tool of power. Fight dragons and giants. Talk with kings and sages.

               He just had to figure out how magic worked first. He heard the sound of footsteps behind him. One of the other villagers, no doubt. They were too heavy for one of his fellow children, so he could avoid being made fun of at least. An adult would just give him empty words of encouragement before going about their day.

               Alic put those thoughts out of his mind. He needed to focus. The book said he needed to form a clear image in his mind. He put everything he had into it. He thought a flame might not be good, so he close something less likely to break something, a puddle. Once he thought he had the image, he went to the book’s next step.

                It was just as strange and unknowable as the first. How was he supposed to see inner energy, let alone move it around? He thought about his blood. He did not quite know how that moved around, but he knew it did. He thought about that long and hard. And he even thought he felt…something. He was not sure what, but definitely something.

               He thought about pushing the energy out through his hands, creating the image in his mind. He clenched his eyes and teeth, willing something to happen. And, much to his surprise, something did. He felt it. A single, tiny drop of water formed on his fingertip. He opened his eyes, looking at the tiny drop. A smile cracked across his face.

               He had done it. He had used magic! Sure, it was not much magic, but it was something. It was only his first time after all.

               “Well now, isn’t that something.” Said a voice very far too close.

               Alic yelped and scrambled back, away from the speaker. A man who looked a few years older than his parents stood, hovering over Alic, looking intently at the drop. The fact that someone had seen him was worrying. What made it worse was that Alic did not recognize the man. An outsider was rare in such far away placed as the village.

               “Wh-who? Wha?” Alic stammered.

               “Lad, may I ask who taught you to do that?”

               “N-nobody, sir. I learned it from a book I found.”

               “A book, really? You can read?”

               “Yup. Pa and Ma said it’s important, even if nobody else thinks so.”

               “Ah. Good to know you have cleaver parents. And this book taught you to do magic?”

               “I’m trying to. I don’t get a lot of it though.”

               “I can tell. That was indeed terrible. But if you learned only from a book that you don’t fully understand, the fact that you were able to do anything is quite telling.”

               Alic came to a sudden realization. Could it be? Could this man be more than just a traveler?

               “Uh, m-mister? Are, are you a mage?”

               “What makes you say that?”

               “Don’t know. I just think you must be. I don’t know why a mage would be out here, but I think you are.”

               The old man looked thoughtful and stroked his chin. “Interesting.” He held out his hand. A ball of water as big as Alic’s head formed in his hand. The boy sucked in a sharp breath. “Indeed I am a mage. I could give a list of my positions, but I doubt you’d recognize any of them.”

               Alic’s eyes grew wide. This was his chance. A chance to learn from a person instead of a book!

               “Can, can you teach me? Like, for real?”

               “Really? Right to an apprenticeship? You don’t even know my name. For all you know, I could be a rogue mage.”

               “I don’t think so. And even if you are, you’re still the only one I’ve ever seen. And I don’t think any other mages are going to come all the way out here.”

               “Another feeling telling you I’m not a rogue?”

               “Yup.”

               A small grin came to the mage’s face. “Interesting. Very interesting. I wasn’t expecting to come across an apprentice way out here, but you might just be worth teaching. It won’t be easy, but maybe.”

               “I can do it.” Alic said, standing as tall as he could. “I’ll be the best student around.”

               The mage chuckled. “I doubt that. But who knows, you might just surprise me, young novice. Now, what is your name?”

               “Alic.”

               “Well, Alic, mine is Drest. Let’s go talk to your parents. Just to let them know that you found yourself a magic teacher.”

               The boy was practically walking on air as he guided his new teacher to his house. He was finally about to take the first steps to being a mage and seeing the world. And hhe could not wait to get started for real.

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I'd say this could be the start of something, but we all know that's a lie. I mean, it totally could, but for that to happen, I'd have to actually, you know, work with it more. And that's pretty much not going to happen. 

Word: sternutation

 

sternutation

[ stur-nyuh-tey-shuhn ]

noun

1. the act of sneezing.

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               Roy did not want to go outside. He wanted to stay indoors, with the AC and his games. Outside, there was the hateful sun, bugs, and the dreaded pollen. None of those were inside his sanctuary. There was only one thing that existed both inside and out: People.

               “You gotta get out of the house.” Said his roommate, Greg. “Seriously, it’s not healthy to stay inside all the time.”

               “I’ve been doing just fine without leaving for years.” Roy insisted.

               “You keep telling yourself that. Look, you know you’ll never get a girlfriend sitting playing games all day, right?”

               “That’s fine. Having a woman in my life will exponentially complicate things. I don’t see a reason to engage with them.”

               Greg just looked at Roy blankly. Roy could almost see the gears turning in his head. He got a bad feeling as he became aware of just how much larger Greg was. This was reinforced when Greg clamped a hand around Roy’s shoulder. Roy was pulled and pushed along, being guided to the door leading to the hateful outside.

               Roy complained the entire way, putting up as much of a struggle as he could. But none of it mattered. Greg pushed him outside and closed the door. Roy froze. He looked around. The sun beat down on his pale skin, threatening to burn him. He heard the buzzing of insects and the voices of people. He felt a tickle in his nose and clamped a hand over it.

               “Let me in, damn it!” He called to Greg, knowing the door would be sealed to him.

               “I will, but not now. You’ve got to spend at least an hour outside before I unlock the door.”

               “An hour? That’ll…that…”

               The pressure in his nasal cavity was building. He could not stop it, no matter what methods he used. And it happened. A sharp sneeze that seemed to rattle his entire head. A few seconds later, and another one followed.

               “Let me in, damn it! My allergies are…” Another sneeze interrupted him, “acting up!”

               No answer came. He turned to the nearby window. In between bone rattling sneezes, he saw Greg looking at him. Greg grinned and waved. Roy kept sneezing. Greg looked confused. The sneezes continued. Greg looked worried. His face vanished, and the door opened.

               “Hey, are you okay?”

               Roy rushed in, barreling passed Greg in his haste. He rushed to the medicine cabinet, where he kept his various allergy medicines. He quickly downed what he could between sneezes. He even went as far as to use a nasal rinse to flush out what pollen he could. The combination of everything finally allowed him to breath without sneezing.

               “Greg?”

               “Yeah?”

               “How many times have I told you how allergic to pollen I am?”

               Greg did not answer.

               “Is it a lot? Because I’m pretty sure it’s a lot.” Roy continued. “And I’m pretty sure I mentioned how violent my fits can be.”

               “Sorry?”

               “Oh no, you don’t do that and get away with a sorry. Not by a long shot.” Roy shot his roommate what he hoped was a piercing glare.

               “I…I’ll make it up to you, and won’t do it again, okay?”

               “You’d better. Until then, don’t both me.”

               Roy marched through the house, returning to the safety of his room. A place where he would not a bothered. A place where he was safe from the dangers of the outside. 

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Seriously, allergies are no joke. They're often used as one in TV and movies, but it real life? They can be bad.