Cutting A Long Story Short

Lachesis was in a snit. Throwing down her yardstick, she eyed Atropos's sharpened implement with undisguised yearning. "Time for a change," she announced threateningly. "I've been measuring longer than Tantalus has been trying to get a drink of water and I've had it to here!"

Atropos shuffled backward, ominously brandishing her scissors. "Don't look at me," she warned. "Ask Clotho to trade with you."

Quietly spinning, Clotho was attempting to avoid a squabble. "The work allocation is now crucial to the legend," she sternly reminded her sisters. "We all agreed."

"Centuries ago," screeched Lachesis. "Inch upon monotonous inch of centuries. I want to do something different!" She lunged for Atropos's scissors.

"Witch!" squawked Atropos, making a run for it.

Swiping haphazardly with her measuring rod, Lachesis chased Atropos around the room. By a stroke of luck..or maybe not...a random attack caught Atropos on the wrist, sending the scissors flying through the air. Immobilized in a horrified silence, the sisters watched the blades neatly sever the thread Clotho had been weaving.

"Hell's bells," whispered Atropos, smacking Lachesis upside the head. "Look what you've made me do!"

"By Jove, we're in trouble," said Clotho, peering down from Olympus. "Some Italian seaman just got cut down in his prime and dropped dead in front of the Castillian Queen." She shoved Atropos. "Go find out who it was."

Atropos picked up the heavy tablet of names and desperately scanned the list.

"Christopher Columbus," she grimaced. "Hope he wasn't destined for anything important."

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