Amari’s Shadow Part 1

I honestly can’t remember the last time I posted a short story. It might actually be since I wrote a series of shorts for Mystery of the Golden Shells back in 2022. Eek, that’s sad. It’s high time to fix that! So without further ado, here’s a bit of fun for your Thursday =)

Amari’s Shadow Part One

The haze wasn’t what bothered Amari the most. True, it turned the sun to an orange orb in the sky that cast a sullen hue over the world but that was an impersonal thing, a generalized thing that affected everyone.

What bothered Amari was she hadn’t seen her shadow in three days, and she was fairly sure it’d run away in protest. For as long as Amari could remember, her shadow walked with her, sat with her, even danced with her, but now it was nowhere to be seen.

She missed its unique form of pessimism. When she wanted to play in the river, it clung to the dry sands higher on the riverbank because the motion of the water made it sick. It literally threw up gray matter the one time she coaxed it away from the shore.

Amari glanced at the orange orb of the sun. The only thing her shadow hated more than water was heat. As the temperatures rose, the air wavered, and Amari had noticed her shadow trying to cower in the shade because, just like the motion of the water, the haze also made it sick.

Amari shook her head. She’d never encountered another shadow who got motion sick off anything that made it waver.

It was time to find her shadow. Tying her long hair back with a ribbon, she covered her head with her silk scarf to protect from the heat and stepped onto the dusty road heading for the ice parlor. Her shadow was protesting the heat. What better place for it to hide?

As she walked, others shot suspicious looks her way. It was noticeable that no companion stretched long at her side when everyone else trailed one in their wake. She tried not to be salty about it. Their shadows refused to play or dance, so they could eye her all day for all she cared. Her shadow was better… when it wasn’t pulling an attitude.

As soon as she saw the parlor, she knew her shadow wasn’t there. Didn’t even need to step inside. Couldn’t, actually, as the place was so packed that the shadows were lost to the hubbub of their people.

Huffing, Amari turned away and eyed the street. Where else would it go?

“Lost, Amari?” Azor, the cobbler, hollered from his shaded stall.

“Only half,” she replied.

He gave her a knowing smile. Azor was one of the few people who never treated her strangely. “What half is missing?”

“The darker half. Where besides the ice parlor would be cold?”

“Cold?” he didn’t scoff but pulled at his beard in serious thought. “The river’s water would be cold. It’s snow fed from the mountains.”

“Water makes my darker half sick. Where else?”

Again, Azor pulled on his beard. “Ms. Mavery’s cellar!” he exclaimed. “Not only cool, but also dark. Maybe a good place to hide, no?”

“Just so!” Amari agreed and took off for the far end of the village where the tavern bordered the sands of the Obihan desert. Buried below its stone walls was the village’s only deep cellar. The perfect place for a person’s shadow to hide from the heat.

The doors of the tavern creaked as she shoved through them into the dim interior. “Ms. Mavery!” Amari hollered. “Ms. Mavery! I need a look in your cellar!”

“You what now?” The withered Ms. Mavery peeked up from where she knelt behind the bar putting away drinking glasses. “You don’t need a thing in my cellar.”

Amari skidded to a halt halfway to the cellar door at the back. She’d crossed Ms. Mavery a time or two and didn’t wish to repeat the folly…

To Be Continued Next Thursday

Thanks for stopping by! We’ll return next week with the rest of the Amari’s Shadow story. Hope to see you then