Fiction Writing Friday: Queen Nefertiti

Originally posted 2016-05-20 12:00:57.

“Yes, oh great one, what would you like?” I yawn. The supreme being looks away haughtily, before sashaying out of the room. I stand, and stretch. It is nearly two in the morning. “Coming oh exultant Elder Beast.” I know if she cared to respond, I’d likely be reprimanded for that title, but she’s too busy sidling away, and through an archway. Like the dutiful mere mortal, I follow her.

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She looks at me, I at her. A silent standoff takes place for nearly a minute, before I whisper through another guttural yawn that shakes my body, “Okay, up you get.”
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The standoff continues.
“Sweet creature, for the love of all the stars in the universes known, get, up, now.” I punctuate these last three words with a stifled stuttering yawn. If I talk anymore, or think, I’m going to be awake for the rest of the night.

Finally, she relents, and climbs up onto her perch of the moment. Her judging stare bores into me, but I do not turn my gaze away. She tilts her head, waiting for me to do the right thing; the only thing that will give her some joy in this life it seems. I groan, audibly enough for the intrepid professor to roll over in his sleep just outside the doorway. He’s surrounded by comfortable pillows and soft sheets and isn’t being attacked by mosquitoes and is probably dreaming of the next great adventure he and I will take together. I’m jealous of his sleep. My hand flails around the wall, sloppily trying to find the light source. I find it with my index finger, and in my haste to close the door quickly so the light doesn’t wake the professor, I close the door on my own foot. Now I’m groaning and rubbing my eyes from the instant brightness like I am two years old again, and grimacing through the pain. My eyes adjust, and I look bitterly at the wounded appendage, as if it were the catalyst for this entire wakefulness, not the result of ill-planned neglect.
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A sound from behind me redirects my attention; right. Nia. Water on, too full, and she tilts her head again, and I’m supplicating like this is the first time I’ve ever enacted this routine. Bowl positioned, and now I’m waiting for the real event to begin. The one that caused all this kerfuffle in the first place at least five minutes ago.

If she doesn’t start soon, I’m going to lay down in the bathtub, and hope for the best for sleep to overtake me. I’m forgetting something vital for this; think sleepy brain, think!!! Right!

“Oh great Queen Nefertiti of the Bathroom, you are wise and wonderful beyond compare.” I begin to pet her long, gloriously beautiful coloured backside. She is softer than a baby chinchilla. When there is a proper rhythm of me telling her she is the best looking creature ever, and stroking her fur, she finally leans forward and begins to drink.

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Sera Hicks
Creative Journey Leader, Intern Supervisor, Admin, Writer at Geeks and Geeklets
Geeky Hobbit-loving Whovian. Lover of chocolate, cats, and crafty things. Writer, Creative Journey Leader. It has to be better tomorrow.