The Gold Nugget – Stephen Myer

“Look, fellers,” said Augur. “It ain’t my intention to offend genrous men with tales of darkness and despair, only to wind up on the bad side of their good nature. Take my words as a friendly warnin’. For in such desert exists a cruel society of veiled ladies—pulchritudinous psychopomps, to be exact.”

Brother whispered. “What the devil’s he talkin’ ’bout?”

“They’re the pretty gals who lead men to their resting place. Had you taken learning seriously, you’d know such things,” I explained.

Augur continued. “These women was commissioned by none other than the Almighty hisself to gather and prepare the dead—only the good ’uns, mind ya—undertaken from territories near and afar.”

“How’d those good ’uns get to the desert if they’re dead?”

“They wasn’t dead when they wandered in. See my point?”

Auger’s words sent a chill through me. I wondered if his story contained a speck of truth. Little Brother, who’d held his tongue for the most part, broke into venomous chastisement.

“You oughta shut your damn mouth, telling such lies.”

“They’s only stories, and stories cain’t lie.”

“There’s gold at the end of a rainbow which dwells seaside!” blurted Brother in frustration. “My daddy’s been there. He showed us a nugget as proof.”

“Do ya have it in yer pohsession?” said Augur.

“None of your damned business.”

“Well, a man’s free to ask.”

“Nothing’s free for the askin’.”

“No need to get all bowed up, Sonny.”

Brother’s hand shot across the table. He grabbed a fistful of waistcoat and pulled Augur so close their foreheads about touched. The music stopped. Chordacluck crawled from behind the piano and squawked a discordant triad.

“You best leave while you still have the chance.”

Those words sent Augur’s companions kicking their chairs back and bolting out the swinging doors, abandoning their drinks and friend. The fire in Brother’s eyes was enough to scare the devil.

“No sense gettin’ violent,” said Augur. “Suits me what little value y’all put on yer lives.”

“We’ll have no more of your daft talk. Now, git, before I truly lose my temper.”

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  1. Michael says:

    Well written fable. Thoughtful ideas about man search for things of lesser value that hide more important issues. Do we suffer little deaths while searching for the unattainable? What should we be doing instead? What is living all about? Thoroughly enjoyable and thoughtful read.

  2. Paula keane says:

    Beautifully written

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