brightlotusmoon | Storytime: Unicorn, Dragon, Phoenix, Pomegranate, Mocha

Writing Prompt #1, inspired by a question from

unico_love.

"What is your favorite mythological creature?"

Writing Prompts

Prompt #1: What is your favorite mythological creature?

I was tapping my pen so hard against my notebook that I didn't hear her question. She repeated it.

"Mm? Oh," I said. "Triple threat."

"Pardon me?"

"My favorite mythological creature. It's a toss-up between three of them. Unicorn, dragon, and phoenix."

Jane grinned and settled more comfortably in the chair across from me. The coffee shop was almost empty, and quiet save for the music drifting out of the speakers: Deep Forest, Robert Miles, Karl Jenkins, William Susman, Ronan Hardiman, Echoboy, VNV Nation. Occasionally a Beck song would interrupt.

I began scribbling, the fine point black pen sweeping skinny ink lines across the paper. "See, I could never limit myself to one thing when it came to my imagination and fantasies. I hated those yes or no philosophical questions when I was a kid. Do you believe in God, for example. Well, what if you believe in a goddess? Or in lots of gods and goddesses? Or you think God exists but you don't worship or truly believe in him? So, I won't say I just have one favorite anything."

Jane tried to see what I was writing, but she was never good at reading upside down. She sipped her iced mocha instead, sucking the straw until her cheeks caved.
I pointed at her with my pen. "Okay, see, take our iced mochas. You just got a mocha. I got a mocha with a bunch of different flavor shots because I won't settle on just one. I have vanilla, cinnamon, and hazelnut. So, triple threat again."

Jane rolled her eyes. "Quit saying the word threat, please, Annie?"

"Okay, sure. But back to the mythological creature question. We have the unicorn, which has actually been misinterpreted and misunderstood throughout the centuries. I mean, look at the way China depicts it. With the fleshy horn and all that. And who said anything about virgins? The unicorn is a symbol of a particular kind of strength and power, a specific sort of purity born from light. Healing, renewal, beauty, love. Now, the dragon." I scribbled faster before my thoughts raced too far ahead of my fingers. "The dragon is intensity, ferocity, arrogance, confidence, knowledge, truth. Dragons are enigmatic and protective and stubborn and generally don't have many enemies, because who wants to mess with a dragon? Dragons act on things, rather than reacting to things. Dragons see a threat and they just… act. They realize quickly what they can do and what they can't do. As opposed to, say, tigers, who react. They have claws and teeth and automatic instincts to kill or run."

"Now you're getting into martial arts theories."

"Well, yes. This ties into that. The dragon, when attacked, is more likely to move out of the way and use defensive tactics--" I moved my torso in a sinuous motion, mimicking a fighter dodging and weaving around an attacker -- "while a tiger might just strike back and use brute strength and go on the offensive immediately. Now, that's a fine tactic, but if you're faced with a stressful situation in which you can't really fight back, it's better to use the dragon technique and just move back and calculate your next moves. Be calm. Collect yourself. Realize that certain things are beyond your control." I sat back and let my entire body slump, relaxing. Jane started laughing.

"Look at you, Annie! I hate to say this, but aren't you more tiger than dragon?"
She leaned forward and propped her head in her hands. "Last time you got really stressed out, you curled up on a couch and cried for an hour and you couldn't talk without breaking down and you lashed out at everyone. That's tiger, honey."

"I know that," I smiled. "I'm trying to be more dragon-ish." I began writing again. "Okay, here's a quote I read somewhere, but I can't remember where: 'The Tiger is strong and quick. He does not think, therefore cannot act. The Tiger can only react and respond. He is strong and fearless but cannot initiate action. The Dragon is strong and full of wisdom. He fears what his strength can do. The Dragon always has the choice. The Tiger never does. You must find and learn the Dragon.' I wrote that down and pinned it to the wall above my bed."

"I like that," Jane said. "I'll have to write that down myself."

I tore a piece of paper out of my notebook and slid my pen across the table.
While Jane wrote down the quote, I took a long sip of my flavored mocha, savoring all those aftertastes. The cinnamon made me think of the phoenix.

"So," I said, "the phoenix. Come on, Jane, I bet you know why the phoenix is one of my favorites."

She laughed. "Because you sort of are one?" She handed me back my pen. "Because you've been living with fibromyalgia and epilepsy and all sorts of other medical annoyances your whole life and all your friends are impressed that you're still going?"

"Obviously, but it’s more than that." I wrote the word "phoenix" in big letters. "It's because… the phoenix never gives up. It can't. Its very nature won't allow that. It is constantly reborn and renewed, but its downfall its always itself. Whatever chains it wraps around itself, whatever prison it builds for itself, it is always personal and self-inflicted. But, but, but. It rises above it all. Eventually. Burns itself down, builds itself back up. Never truly lets itself die." I paused, and the pause stretched on. Over the speakers, VNV Nation began singing "Illusion." I listened intently. I felt my body start to tense up.

"Annie," Jane said loudly. I felt her hand grasp mine. "Honey, take a breath. You can stop now, I get it."

I let out a breath so powerful that I think my lungs emptied completely. "Yeah. Um. Hey, do you want to head back to my house now? We can sit in the garden and eat cheese quesadillas with guacamole."

"You're out of guacamole."

I raised my eyebrows and gestured toward the door of the coffee shop. "Grocery store is right next door, babe."

"I know, that was my excuse. I want to buy a jug of pomegranate juice."

"Hey," I said. "You know, the pomegranate has its own complex mythology."

My best friend grinned again and sighed. "Yes, but it's not a creature."

"It could be a delicious liquid creature."

"Mmmm, delicious liquid creature... Glaaargh."

"No donuts for you, Homer Simpson."

"D'oh!"

We took our mochas and our belongings and walked out, toward the grocery store and pomegranate mythology.