The Immortal Book Club
Sometimes what you really need is people with commonality. Especially if part of why you struggle to make friends is the hassle of dealing with mortal timeframes…
20251115
Prompt from DailyPrompt.com
“I realised why I’ve been feeling so down.” Minerva announced, causing a sympathetic and intrigued stir amongst the rest of the book club. “It’s my house. My furnishings, to be exact. While the colours used to be bright, now they are all so very dull. Like existing in an old faded photograph. It’s depressing. Particularly as the nights grow long again.”
Everyone murmured “ah!” and gave sage nods.
Then Agatha said “But I thought you only redecorated a few decades ago?”
“I did!” Minerva huffed. “These modern materials simply aren’t made to last.”
This time the chorus was one of shared indignation.
“It’s been really noticeable, this past century.” Bernard grumbled. He paused to take a swig from his blood-bottle, then wearily continued “People want cheap flashy tat which dies quick so they can jump on the next trend. What about those of us who just want to pay for a refresh every generation or so and not worry about it failing us between times?”
“Some of us didn’t bother with that.” Patricia gave a lazy wink, her smile half-hidden in her teacup.
“Yes, well, if I had a castle perhaps I’d be happy to stick with the eighteen hundreds as a theme.” Bernard said amiably. “But it doesn’t really work with a two-up-two-down. Starts getting awkward to invite visitors over. And it’s hard enough making friends as is.”
That got a round of rueful sighs and nods.
“Getting back to Minny’s problem…” Agatha said with deathly - or rather, ghostly - patience. “Has anyone had a good decorating experience recently? As in, within mortal lifespans?”
“Goodness no!” Bernard grumbled. “Whole field’s gone to pot.”
Violet said “I’d look into restoration people. They’re expensive, but they work with good quality materials and know their stuff. And if you want something with a more modern look they can probably still make it.”
“Oo, seconded!” Patricia said firmly. “I mean, the people I hire probably won’t be any good for you, but I’m sure there’s people who will be.”
“Hm. I’ll look into it.” Minerva decided. “I always feel I should try and get a taste for dark colours, I mean it’s so much more… lich-y. But whenever I actually try it…” A forlorn shudder rattled her bones.
“Sod that!” Barnard thumped the table. “You’re a person, not a stereotype! Those idiots who insist undead all ought to be goth can go lock themselves in a basement. Preferably mine.”
Minerva’s eyes sparkled a grateful smile, while the rest of the group either tutted or tittered.
“Well, the clock’s about the strike the hour, so shall we start?” Patricia picked up her copy. “You know, I wasn’t expecting a tale about cargo shipping, of all things, to be interesting, but Violet, you were absolutely right. I was hooked even before the escapade with the smuggled wombats…”
Prompt was “The colors used to be bright, and now they are all so very dull.”