Wednesday has come around again and I’m happy to present this week’s flash fiction.
Two thoughts entered my mind as I sat stooped over my low table. First, my cushion had become far too thin offering no protection from the stone floor’s imperfections (there were many). Second, I remained unenthusiastic about unannounced visits.
And yet, Preceptor Alard stood in the doorway with peopled clustered behind. I scrunched my eyes but couldn’t place the two woman and men. Likely, because I’d never meet them. Though they wore scholar’s robes.
I held back my sleeve, replaced my quill in the inkwell, and rose. “This is an unexpected visit.” Clasping my hands, I bowed low trying to pitch my voice for annoyance.
“These scholars,” Alard unhelpfully gesturing to the people with him, “are here to examine the Lanfre civilization tomes.”
My cheeks puckered. “No,” I said, “They’re pups.”
The lead woman bumped her shoulder pointedly against Alard’s shoulder. He glanced backward clearing his throat. “I misspoke. Request is a bit mild of a word.”
“We demand them.” The second woman tapped her foot waiting.
I blinked. “No.” I raised a finger before Alard could respond. “As the foremost expert on Lanfre, I determine who peruses my volumes.”
The man snorted. “A title we will disprove.” The trio pushed past Alard scattering about my study as if they owned the place.
I turned toward the proctor, but found no aid. He shrugged and handed me a slip of paper. My jaw dropped upon reading it. They challenged my position as an erudite historian. The audacity!
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