The Harpy sat high up on the bookshelf, looking down at the inebriated man.
It watched in fascination as the man clumsily turned the pages of his book and constantly topped up his tumbler with whiskey from the half empty bottle. It watched the awkward movement of the arm repeatedly lifting the glass to his lips. It wasn’t at all sure what it was looking at. It was big, of that the creature was certain. It sat at a desk covered with books. If it stood up it would be a great deal bigger. The Harpy, being part woman and part bird, was only a fragment of his size and bulk. If it attacked the man below it would most probably come off badly.
No, if it wanted to give the man trouble, and it goes without saying that it did, after all, it was a Harpy, and that’s what Harpies did, it would have to be content with annoying him. It would fly down, making for his face, and then swerve to one side before the man knew what was happening. It moved forward a little, readied its wings and launched off across the room. The man, hearing the flapping looked up and froze in horror. He took a wild swipe at the creature, dropping his tumbler in the process. The Harpy, perched back on the shelf, took in the chaotic seen with a wicked grin. It giggled malignantly, as only a Harpy can.
The creature lifted its head and let out an evil screech, inviting others to come and join the fun. Another jolt ran through the man as the menacing shriek pierced his ears. The man’s drink slowly ran across and dripped off the pages of his open book.
In no time at all the room was teeming with the spiteful monsters. As they swirled around him he felt the hair moving on his head. He sat swatting maniacally for several minutes before he finally lost consciousness. His arms lay across the desk. The bottle lay on its side, its contents running off the edge of the desk and into his lap.
He was like that when his wife looked in. She sighed and left him there for the night.
It was Greek Mythology, of course. Such powerful stuff!
