Word: Algid

algid

[al-jid] / ˈæl dʒɪd /

adjective

1. cold; chilly.

  ***************************************

                Jack hated going into the freezer. The cold sank into his bones in a weird way, and the thing was laid out in the worst way possible. It was like a maze. Why couldn’t the manager just get the shelves organized like any other place? He knew it needed to be big, but that was no excuse for a lack of organization.

                Other hotels he worked for knew the value of proper freezer layout. A few shelves in neat rows, clearly labeled and with everything in a well thought out place. At least, the good ones did that. This one though? If there was an organization system in place, Jack did not know it.

                One shelf had vegetables in one corner, and frozen drinks in another. A different shelf was covered with what looked like preserve jars, and was positioned perpendicular to two others, blocking the isle completely. And he did not even want to think about the shelves that were leaning on others. Any OSHA inspectors that came by would have a heart attack seeing those.

                Nobody should need a map to navigate a walk-in freezer. Jack was very firm in that belief. What really got to him was that none of the other employees thought it was weird. In fact, none of them seemed to have a problem going into the damn place at all, nor did they have difficulty finding anything. They treated Jack like he was the odd one for not wanting to navigate a freezing cold maze with no labeling.

                A particularly cold burst of air hit him. Where in the world were those coming from? There were no vents in the ceiling. And yet, he occasionally got hit by a burst of air that was even colder than normal. He looked around and so nothing but the shelves in their usual state of disorganization.

                He turned as another area of cold hit him from the side. This one lingered. Like a bubble of cold air. Jack looked around to see the source, but could not find anything. He just kept going. He grumbled about the faulty cooling system. He grumbled about the poorly arranged shelves. He grumbled about the lack of labels.

                Luckily, he was able to find what he was looking for. He was glad it wasn’t anything too heavy, and he was soon on his way back to the kitchen with an armful of frozen meat. The air in the kitchen was blessedly warm, and he felt the cold slowly seep out of his fingers.

                “Hey, Jack, you got it?” The head chef, Walter, asked.

                “Yeah, I got the meat. But if you need more, send Rick in there. That place sucks.” Jack replied as he set the boxes down.

                “Hey, uh, you feeling okay?” Walter asked, giving Jack an odd look. “You didn’t see anything weird in there, did you?”

                “Walt, I see weird things in there all the time. I mean, come on, who sets up shelves like that? It’s not normal.”

                “That’s it? Just the layout?”

                “Uh, yeah? Why? Should I be looking for something else?”

                “And you’re feeling okay now? Everything normal?”

                “Yeah?” Jack asked slowly.

                Walter looked at him and sighed. “Man, Jack, you are one weird guy, you know that?”

Word: Behindhand

 

behindhand

American  

[bih-hahynd-hand] / bɪˈhaɪndˌhænd /

adverb

1. late; tardy.

2. behind in progress; backward.

   They were never behindhand in following artistic fads.

3. in debt or arrears. 

   ************************************* 

                   Jack was late. He was late in so many ways. He just hoped she was in a merciful mood today. Otherwise, he may not be going home today. He burst into the building’s lobby and rushed through the unfortunately familiar halls. He got several glares as he ran, but he did not care. He only slowed when he arrived at the heavy wooden doors.

                   Jack took a moment to compose himself. He was already late, a few extra seconds would not hurt. He took several deep breaths, then knocked. There was no answer. Jack knew better than to knock again though. Doing so would only upset her even more. Eventually, the voice calling for him to enter came. He immediately entered the office.

                   “Ah, Jack. I was wondering if you would show up.”

                   Juliet sat behind a large wooden desk. She was, as always, immaculately dressed. A suit that showed just enough of her figure to cause most men to lose their cool, while also hiding enough that she could easily be underestimated. A face equal to most supermodels that could break men with a glance, should she want to. Jack just hoped she would not turn that kind of gaze on him.

                   “Y-yes, Ms. Conway. I’m sorry.” He did not give an excuse. Such things were pointless.

                   “I’m sure you are. Well, have a seat and we can talk business.”

                   Jack sat in a chair in front of her desk. One of several. All three here hard wood with only a thin cushion. A far cry from her chair, which was more like a throne with wheels. He swallowed a lump in his throat as she placed her arms on the desk and rested her chin on her hands. Her sleeve tightened just a tiny bit. Enough to remind Jack of one of the many reasons to fear this woman.

                   “Now Jack, I won’t ask why you were late to this meeting. Frankly, it doesn’t matter. What I will ask about is why you are so late in your debt payment.”

                   “Uh, well, Ms. Conway, I—”

                   Juliet held up her hand, stopping him. “No excuses, Jack. You know how I feel about excuses. All I want to know is why you have not paid your debt to me. I believe I’ve been more than fair in my terms, and quite lenient in the repayment schedule. And yet, your first installment is late. By a week. This is unacceptable, Jack. Now, I’m a reasonable woman,” Jack had to bite his tongue to keep his face neutral at that. “if you give me a valid reason, I’ll let you off easy. A veritable slap on the wrist. But give me an excuse, and I’m sure you know what will happen.”

                   Jack took a deep breath. “I was going to make the payment.” He started. Juliet’s face darkened. “Honestly, I was. On my way to the post office. But I was jumped by some guys. I didn’t see their faces, but—”

                   “Jack. Are you telling me that you were robbed?” She stood up.

                   “Y-yes ma’am.”

                   She put a hand on the edge of her desk. “A robbery. Are you sure that’s your reason for being late?”

                   Jack pushed the chair back a little. He knew he was telling the truth here, but that did not make him any less nervous. The truth did not matter. Her judgement of the truth did. And if she determined he was lying?

                   “Oh, Jack.” She pushed the desk to the side. The heavy wooden desk and everything on it. Moved aside like a cheap plastic toy. “I thought we had an agreement. I give you money. You pay the money back. I thought you knew this.”

                   “I…I swear, I’m not lying!” He practically shouted.

                   “How many times have I heard the old robbery excuse, I wonder.” With her path clear, Juliet slowly started walking towards him. There were a scant few steps, but she took each one with a slow but inevitable gait. “I was hoping you would come up with something better.”

                   Jack did the only thing he could think to do. He quickly stood, turned around, and lifted his shirt. He heard her steps stop.

                   “What’s this, Jack?”

                   “The…the bruises, Ms. Conway. From the robbery.” He had seen them in a mirror. They were quite extensive. He heard Juliet come closer and run a hand along them. Luckily the robbery was a few days ago, so they did not have the sting of fresh injuries.

                   “Hm. Well, for once it seems like the robbery excuse might have some merit. I will, of course, be looking into the validity of your claim. You do know that, right?”

                   “Yes, Ms. Conway, I know.”

                   “If you’re really telling the truth, I’m willing to renegotiate. To an extent. But if I find these bruises of yours were from anything else…” Her hand closed on his shoulder like a steel vice. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what will happen.”

                   “Yes, Ms. Conway, I know.”

                   “Good. Now get out of here. Do work on getting my payment, and be more careful out there. It’s a dangerous city.”

                   When she let go, Jack immediately bolted for the door. As he left, Jack had never been so grateful that he had been robbed in broad daylight as he was in that moment.

    

Word: Avarice

avarice

 [av-er-is] / ˈæv ər ɪs /

noun

1. insatiable greed for riches; inordinate, miserly desire to gain and hoard wealth.

  ******************************

                Hector sat before the old woman. At least, she appeared to be an old woman. If the stories were true, she was far more than that. The air around her was certainly different from that outside the small tent. And not just because of the incense the gave the space a heavy herbal scent. It was more like everything inside the tent, the air included, was part of the woman. Hector did not let that bother him. As long as he did not provoke her, he would be fine.

                “Greetings, hero.” The woman said. Her voice was thin and hoarse. But there was something odd about it. Hector almost thought there were two voices, one occurring just beyond the range of his hearing. “I know what it is you come for.”

                “I’m sure you do.” Hector replied. “What will it cost me to learn what I want?”

                “Nothing you need to worry about. I am collecting my payment even now. Do not worry, it shall not harm you.”

                Hector looked inwards, trying to find what he was losing. He could not feel anything different. That was good. If he could get the answers he sought without losing anything of value, he could only think of this as a complete win.

                “Very well.”

                “Good. Now, you come seeking power, yes?”

                “I do. I wish to know the best way to grow stronger so that I may triumph over the evils that plague this world.”

                The woman’s mouth curled up into a toothy grin. Her teeth were uneven and yellowing. And some of them seemed sharper than they should have.

                “I can do this. I can give you knowledge of your greatest strength, so that you can grow it. Or I can give you knowledge of your greatest weaknesses, so that you may correct it. Either will accomplish what you seek.”

                “Not both?”

                “Not with the payment you are providing.”

                That was a disappointment. But he would not press the matter. That would likely lead to him gaining nothing, or worse.

                “In that case, tell me my weakness. I shall strive to eliminate it.”

                The woman’s grin grew a tiny bit. She looked at him long and hard. Then she spoke.

                “Avarice. That is your weakness.”

                “Avarice?”

                “Greed. You seek to possess much. More than you need. More than you should have. Power. Gold. Even social connections. You seek all of it, even at the expense of others.”

                “That…that’s not true.” Hector said quickly.

                “Is it not? Tell me, when you and your companions found that magic book last month, what did you do?”

                “I took it, obviously. I was the best choice.”

                “Were you? That book was for the element of water. You are a user of light, are you not?”

                “I…am…”

                “And your companion, an elementalist. One who uses water quite adeptly.”

                Hector’s brow furrowed in thought. Was she right? Had he made an error in judgement that day?

                “Now tell me, why did you really want that book.”

                “Be…because…” Hector started, but stopped to think. Why had he done that? And now that he thought about it, the same could be said for several other magic items currently in his possession. Weren’t there others who could use them better? There was only one real answer he could give. Well, there were several, but only one that he knew, deep down, was correct.

                “Because I wanted it. I wanted it for no reason other than I wanted it.”

                “Yes. Good.” The woman said. “The first step to overcoming a weakness is to admit that you have it. Recognize your own greed. Know it. And then learn to overcome it. It will not happen right away. It will be a slow and painful process. But if you can overcome your own avarice, you will grow considerably. As a hero. As a member of a team. As a person. Now, I have given you the answer you seek. Go and make use of what you have learned. And perhaps someday you will find your way back to me. Good luck, hero.”

                Hector wanted to ask more. So much more. But was that his greed, or was it curiosity? No, it was best to leave now and think. He had a lot of soul searching to do.