“Tell me a story, little demon.” Leaghanda looked up and into the green eyes of the demon of envy.
“What kind of story do you want?” In fact, Leaghanda, the demon of erotica, was in no mood to tell any story at all. But the demon of envy looked like she needed it.
“A love story of course.”
The demon of erotica chewed on her pencil while thinking. Then she put it down.
“Have you heard about the train and the rails?”
One black eyebrow over green eyes shot up.
“The train and the rails?” She asked, “what kind of story is that?”
“Well, if you’re patient and wait, I’ll tell you.”
The demon of envy rolled her eyes, as if saying “fine”, but she didn’t say anything else so Leaghanda started telling the story.
“Well, they say that every time a train goes by, the rails sing.” She turned quiet.
The demon of envy, Arakiss we’ll call her, looked at Leaghanda as if expecting more.
“What?” She said after a little while, “was that it?”
“Yes,” Leaghanda said, “I mean, that’s the main idea. Have you ever listened to the rails when a train goes by? It sounds like music. They’re singing. That’s pretty romantic if you ask me.”
“But that’s stupid,” Arakiss replied, “that’s not a love story, that’s… I don’t know what that is.”
“What did you expect me to come up with in five minutes?” She shrugged her shoulders.
“Plus,” she continued, “I don’t think here,” she tapped on her head, “I think here.” She held out her fingers and wiggled them as if writing on a keyboard. “If you want a story told you need to ask the demon of storytelling, not me.”
The demon of envy seemed annoyed. Leaghanda thought for a while.
“Fine,” she said, “there is more to the story.”
Arakiss looked up.
“But it isn’t told by me,” Leaghanda continued, “it’s told by the rail who sings and the trains who shudder and moan and twist and turn as they move together. It’s about the swelling of metal in the heat of summer, and freezing and shrinking in winter. It’s not a gentle love story, but it’s a story of fire and coal turned electrical engine. Kind of sad really. The only thing that remains the same is the singing of the rail. Even if the trains are not the same.”
The demon of envy looked at her with wide eyes for a couple of minutes. Then she stood up.
Leaghanda laughed as her friend left.
(shamelessly based off of The book of seven forbidden wisdoms by Deniz Pekin)