Prosy: The Wrong Path
Jan. 17th, 2012 06:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
clare_dragonflyTitle: The Wrong Path
Word count: 362 (total: 3,465)
Rating: G
Prompt:kay_brooke's: The wrong path/is it really the wrong path.
Notes: This is several months after the other prison planet stories that I've written so far, but it's a scene I've had in mind for a while, so I'm pretty excited about it!
It was a beautiful, thriving, old-growth forest. The trees—even if they weren’t any that Carla would have recognized either from the biomes at home or pictures of Earth—were tall and beautiful, and the light filtering down through them was green and gold. If they hadn’t been able to tell by the slow warming of the air over the several months they’d been on this planet, she would know for certain that now it was summer. There were birds singing in the trees, and little animals scurrying about under the bushes (some of which were certainly the same kind that the men were now preparing for their supper.) It would have been a perfect, peaceful day, except…
“This damn thing does not fit on me,” Rita snapped, hauling the strap of her wood-sling over her head and throwing the whole thing to the ground. Branches and twigs scattered. “I need a longer one, or something.”
Carla sighed, knowing that she herself had worked hard to make a sling that fit her proportions correctly, and went over to Rita. Putting on a patient face, she helped Rita get the sling back over her neck and started picking up wood and packing them back in.
“Why do we even have to gather the wood?” Rita complained, doing very little to help. “Just because we’re the women.”
Carla’s patient mask slipped and she rolled her eyes, but she didn’t think Rita caught it. “Division of labor. Travis and Jason went hunting, and somebody has to gather wood. Tomorrow it will be somebody else. Or you could join a hunting group if you really don’t want to gather wood.”
Rita pulled a sour face. “I can’t believe we even have to eat those poor things.”
“I hate it too, but none of us knows how to farm or anything.” At least coming over to help Rita had given Carla a new perspective, in which she could see several fallen branches behind a tree. She gathered them up and stuck some into Rita’s sling. “At least we’re done now.”
“Oh, good.” Rita turned around and started walking.
“Wait,” said Carla. “That’s the wrong way.”
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Word count: 362 (total: 3,465)
Rating: G
Prompt:
kay_brooke's: The wrong path/is it really the wrong path.Notes: This is several months after the other prison planet stories that I've written so far, but it's a scene I've had in mind for a while, so I'm pretty excited about it!
It was a beautiful, thriving, old-growth forest. The trees—even if they weren’t any that Carla would have recognized either from the biomes at home or pictures of Earth—were tall and beautiful, and the light filtering down through them was green and gold. If they hadn’t been able to tell by the slow warming of the air over the several months they’d been on this planet, she would know for certain that now it was summer. There were birds singing in the trees, and little animals scurrying about under the bushes (some of which were certainly the same kind that the men were now preparing for their supper.) It would have been a perfect, peaceful day, except…
“This damn thing does not fit on me,” Rita snapped, hauling the strap of her wood-sling over her head and throwing the whole thing to the ground. Branches and twigs scattered. “I need a longer one, or something.”
Carla sighed, knowing that she herself had worked hard to make a sling that fit her proportions correctly, and went over to Rita. Putting on a patient face, she helped Rita get the sling back over her neck and started picking up wood and packing them back in.
“Why do we even have to gather the wood?” Rita complained, doing very little to help. “Just because we’re the women.”
Carla’s patient mask slipped and she rolled her eyes, but she didn’t think Rita caught it. “Division of labor. Travis and Jason went hunting, and somebody has to gather wood. Tomorrow it will be somebody else. Or you could join a hunting group if you really don’t want to gather wood.”
Rita pulled a sour face. “I can’t believe we even have to eat those poor things.”
“I hate it too, but none of us knows how to farm or anything.” At least coming over to help Rita had given Carla a new perspective, in which she could see several fallen branches behind a tree. She gathered them up and stuck some into Rita’s sling. “At least we’re done now.”
“Oh, good.” Rita turned around and started walking.
“Wait,” said Carla. “That’s the wrong way.”
Did you enjoy this story? You can read more stories in this world or see all my fiction posted at Dreamwidth!
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Date: 2012-01-18 07:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-18 11:25 pm (UTC)