I'm excited to be part of a new fiction writing collaboration by @rensoul17! This is an ongoing story with contributions from various writers on the Steemit platform. Read the story so far here:

https://steemit.com/prose/@rensoul17/the-artist-imprint-series-prologue-shades-of-iridescence

https://steemit.com/prose/@rensoul17/artist-imprint-series-shades-of-iridescent-chapter-one

https://steemit.com/prose/@rensoul17/artist-imprint-by-candlelight-betwixt-vermilion-and-gamboge-chapter-two-part-one

https://steemit.com/prose/@rensoul17/artist-imprint-by-candlelight-betwixt-vermillion-and-gamboge-chapter-two-part-two

https://steemit.com/prose/@rensoul17/artist-imprint-betwixt-vermillion-and-gamboge-chapter-two-part-three

My contribution is used in chapter 2, part 3. In this part of the story, the heroine receives a message from a mysterious stranger. The scene was easy to set for me, as I grew up (from the age of 10) in New York City, where the story takes place.

The following is my original submission, you can read it as edited into the story here: https://steemit.com/prose/@rensoul17/artist-imprint-betwixt-vermillion-and-gamboge-chapter-two-part-three

https://pixabay.com/en/yoda-dark-the-dark-side-of-force-star-wa-1726764/

The Fortune Cookie

"Find the part of you that can't be broken." said a voice at her shoulder, quietly enough that for a moment she wasn't sure if she was hearing things. She glanced over, startled. A stranger had fallen into lockstep beside her on the 6th Avenue sidewalk, which was of course crowded with strangers. Shoulder length black hair, a black duster, a Yoda T shirt, and square wire-rimmed glasses that made him look bookish. An escapee from a comix convention, she thought. His demeanor was casual, as if the two of them were old friends strolling along the brightly lit streets together, and not complete strangers, one of whom had just said something more than a little creepy to the other. It took her a minute to find her voice, but when she did she rounded on him, affecting New Yorker attitude as best she could: "Are you talking to me?" The two of them were stopped suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk, the other pedestrians milling around them.

He shrugged. "You know", he said. "Or, ok, maybe you don't, you look pretty young. I'm talking about when you've been shattered beyond repair. Your world ended. Your identity torn apart. By grief, loss, hatred, envy... whatever." His hand fluttered dismissively. "When someone's broken, there's always a small, shining piece left, like a tiny seed inside of the fruit. When all of your sweet flesh is gone, what's left? Where is the seed at the heart of you? Find it. You're going to need it." He handed her something, turned on his heel, and disappeared, swallowed by the crowd. For a moment she had an impulse to chase after him, ask him who the hell did he think he was, but immediately realized the futility of it. There was no way she'd find him among all these other people if he didn't want to be found.

She looked down at her hands. A fortune cookie. He had given her a fortune cookie. She cracked it open, pulled the little slip of paper from its sweet, dry husk. "You will meet a mysterious stranger". Wow.

Well, yeah, that had happened.

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