Word: Cicerone

cicerone

 [sis-uh-roh-nee, chich-uh-, chee-che-raw-ne] / ˌsɪs əˈroʊ ni, ˌtʃɪtʃ ə-, ˌtʃi tʃɛˈrɔ nɛ /

noun

1. a person who conducts sightseers; guide.

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                For some reason, the tour group was lost. And not lost in the normal way either. They were in a completely different place. The tour guide, Becky, had no idea how that had happened. She had given hundreds of tours since she started. She knew the ruins like the back of her hand. And yet…

                “Are we lost miss?” Asked one of the tour group members. This one was a little boy who could not have been older than seven. He looked up at Becky with those wide eyes that only kids can manage.

                “Uh, no. No, of course not.” Becky said. “I’m just taking you all on a…super-secret special tour.”

                The other children in the group seemed thrilled by that. The parents, on the other hand, were not fooled in the slightest. They saw the sudden change. The fact that all the ruined, barely there outline of stone buildings had suddenly been changed into buildings that seemed more like crystal. They were still very much ruins, given the cracks in the material and overgrown paths, but there was no way anyone could think they were in the same place.

                She looked around, putting on her best tour guide smile. She had made the lie to placate the child. Now she just needed to sell it. She could discuss what was going on with the other adults.

                “This is the little known…Lunar City. Named after the prominent, uh, quartz towers. Experts believe these large crystals were found in the nearby deep caves and brought out because they resembled moonlight.”

                Becky thanked the ever-loving stars for her time in drama camp. And all those improv classes her ex-boyfriend insisted she take. She hoped that at least sounded kind of plausible to young minds. The parents looked at each other. One of them picked up the slack and let out a suitably impressed Oo and Ahh. Another one took a quick picture with his phone. Becky had no idea if the photo was actually taken, but that was not important.

                “Now, we don’t know why these big crystals were taken here, but we think…”She looked at the tops of the towers. Some of them had clear layers on top of them. Sort of, anyway. It was hard to tell, but it was enough to work with. “Because they admitted light, probably for ritual purposes.”

                “Can we go inside?” A little girl asked.

                Becky looked at the nearest door. It looked shut pretty tight. Plus, she had no idea what was inside. There could be dangerous animals or pitfalls inside.

                “Sorry, but no.” she said, doing her best to sound regretful. “The insides are very delicate, you see. We’re still studying them, so we don’t want anyone to go in yet.”

                The kids all gave a collective groan of disappointment. The parents looked grateful for her refusal though. Many of them were probably thinking similar things as she was. Now though, she had a problem. How was she going to spin it about why they couldn’t return to the ruins they were actually supposed to be touring. That would be a challenge. Even kids would know something was wrong pretty soon.

                “Now, normally we don’t let people into the Lunar City. But since this is a very special group, we get to do something really cool.” The kids practically held their breath in anticipation. “Even though we can’t go into the buildings, we get to stay here tonight to see how the light runs along the walls of the towers. I hear it’s a really cool. Almost like magic!”

                The kids were practically buzzing with excitement at the word magic. That would not last long when they realized there was no camping equipment. Or food. Hopefully someone would be able to find some edible plants. But that was a problem for later. Right now, it was Becky’s job to keep everyone from panicking and keep the group together. The real planning would happen once the kids went to sleep.

Word: Lily-livered

lily-livered

 [lil-ee-liv-erd] / ˈlɪl iˈlɪv ərd /

adjective

1. weak or lacking in courage; cowardly; pusillanimous.

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                “I don’t want to go in there.” Henry said.

                Loura turned to look at him with a quizzical look on her face. Then she turned to look at the haunted house. A stream of kids and teens entered and exited, along with a  few potentially drunk college students. They were the only adults in the line for entry.

                “Why not? Is there something wrong?” She asked. “Worried that someone we know will see us? Judge us for still liking Halloween? Come on, look around. Nobody cares.”

                “That…that’s not it.” Henry rubbed his arm. It had nothing to do with the late October chill. “I just don’t want to go in.”

                Loura looked at him. He studiously avoided the gaze. A wide smile crossed her face.

                “Oh my god. Henry, are you scared?”

                “N-no.” He replied weakly.

                “You are! You’re scared.”

                “I…I just…I don’t like ghosts and stuff.”

                Loura looked around them. Other people had joined the line after them, so she guided him out of the line. She could tell this was best done a little farther away from the crowd.

                “Scared of ghosts? Really?”

                “What? Lots of people are scared of ghosts.”

                “Yeah, but we’re not going to be seeing any. Look, this is a high school haunted house. The scariest thing we’re going to see in there is the kid’s acting skills.”

                Henry looked away from her. He also looked away from the building.

                “I know.” He said quietly. “But still. I can’t help it. I just see that kind of thing and I freeze up.”

                Loura’s face softened. She stepped closer to him and reached up to place her hands on his shoulders.

                “Look, I promise you have nothing to be scared of. The worst thing you have to be worried about is maybe getting some fake cobwebs in your hair.”

                “Uh…cobwebs? You…you think there’s going to be spiders in there?”
                “Only the kind that are made of plastic or rubber.”

                “I…I don’t think I can handle that.”

                “Henry, what’s really going on? There’s no reason to be scared. There are kids going in there and coming out laughing like crazy. You are 29 years old. You have literally no reason to be scared.”

                Henry did not answer right away. He did not want to admit this to her.

                “There’s nothing going on.” Henry said. “I’m just a big coward. I get scared easy. About all kinds of things. You just haven’t seen any of that yet. There’s no big, deep reason. I didn’t get lost in one of these places as a kid. I didn’t get traumatized by anything. I’m just scared, okay. I hate it and can’t handle even little things like this.”

                Loura looked at him. She knew he was a bit sensitive about a lot of things. She knew he wasn’t the kind of person to take a bullet for another. She was fine with that. She had dated way too many overly macho men in her day, so a gentler man was exactly what she was looking for. But to be scared of teenagers in bad masks? That was a bit much. She would just have to help him.

                “Well, I’m going in.” She said firmly. “You can stay out here, all alone, in the dark. Or you can come with me. We’ll go through, you’ll find that you’ve got nothing to be scared of, and we’ll get a few pieces of candy at the end. So, what’s it going to be?”

                Henry’s face went through a range of expressions. He looked around. The outside of the building had been lightly decorated. A few plastic gravestones with decorative skeletons. A few rubber bats in the trees. Nothing special. Henry looked like every single one of them was alive and about to jump him. He let out a light whimper, then moved to cling to Loura’s arm. She could only imagine what it must have looked like to others, but neither cared. They simply got back on line and waited, with Loura giving occasional words of comfort and encouragement the entire time.  

               

Word: Algid

algid

[al-jid] / ˈæl dʒɪd /

adjective

1. cold; chilly.

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                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?”