The grisly smell of the frying bacon sat on the air as thick as the November fog draping the Skimming River Valley. The gamey scent of breakfast overcame Jule, waking her from a deep sleep with an offensive blend of nostalgia and nausea. The girl's sudden groan to life startled Gray Man who was intently preparing the meal causing him to send the cast iron skillet clattering food to the floor. A gruff moan quickly escaped his beard-masked mouth.
"You're awake," Gray Man grunted the obvious as he picked up toast from the ill-maintained kitchen floor.
A soft murmur escaped Jule's lips, "Yes, Gra - sir."
Gray Man nodded somewhat approvingly as though Jule's being awake was some type of notable achievement. Jule cautiously stretched her neck that had been awkwardly contorted on the stiff couch during her sleep. As she loosened her muscles, her thoughts drifted back to the previous night, but a noise from the kitchen quickly startled her back to the present morning.
Callously setting the breakfast food on the kitchen table, Gray Man barked, "Breakfast is ready. You'll need it."
Begrudgingly lifting her body from the couch, Jule weakly shuffled toward the small table and quietly thanked the man for breakfast.
"Don't thank me. Just eat. The fog is thick this morning, but it should be gone soon. We'll need to be ready to start when it clears, and you'll need the energy," Gray Man glanced at her through accusing eyes, "especially after last night."
Jule cast her eyes downward closing them slightly. Last night. The memories were painful. They would be for a time much longer than she anticipated at that moment.
7.07.2008
3.17.2008
Chapter 3: Where is the heart in a house?
Jule moaned to life in the arms of a very familiar stranger. The mutterings of the gruff gray man carrying her sunk her heart to the depths of her stomach, and the possibilities wrought by the shadowed moon sank with it.
Jule's futile escape had provided only the briefest taste of independence with which she once again had the ability to act of her own accord ... although her own accord seemed to have brought her right back to where she started. His house - though house does it too much justice. Dwelling place? Cave perhaps. It was built with drafty walls that provided little protection from weather and the decorations consisted of a beaver skin, a couple of raccoon pellets and a deer head. The deer's beady eyes disgusted her and existed to remind her of their shared prison; however, she was the living trophy. The deer - a more misfortuned prize.
Gray Man carried Jule into the house, catching her hair on the log door frame. Not noticing, he snagged the tendrils and jauntily continued into the house. Jule noticed the pull little more than the man as she tried to connect her disjointed thoughts. She couldn't recall what had spurred her desperate escape, and the harder she tried to bring back those recent memories the more it seemed sleep was all that would entertain her thoughts. Darkness enveloped her once more though this time not as cold or perilous.
Jule's futile escape had provided only the briefest taste of independence with which she once again had the ability to act of her own accord ... although her own accord seemed to have brought her right back to where she started. His house - though house does it too much justice. Dwelling place? Cave perhaps. It was built with drafty walls that provided little protection from weather and the decorations consisted of a beaver skin, a couple of raccoon pellets and a deer head. The deer's beady eyes disgusted her and existed to remind her of their shared prison; however, she was the living trophy. The deer - a more misfortuned prize.
Gray Man carried Jule into the house, catching her hair on the log door frame. Not noticing, he snagged the tendrils and jauntily continued into the house. Jule noticed the pull little more than the man as she tried to connect her disjointed thoughts. She couldn't recall what had spurred her desperate escape, and the harder she tried to bring back those recent memories the more it seemed sleep was all that would entertain her thoughts. Darkness enveloped her once more though this time not as cold or perilous.
1.28.2008
Chapter 2: Moving On
A truck rumbling in the very near distance startled Jule to a complete stop. The stillness, that had been trying to catch her, abruptly surrounded her shivering body. Her raspy breath broke through the coolness of the winter air steadily smoky under the midnight moon.
The red sweater that once seemed so warm and comforting suddenly became a conspicuous alien clinging to her back, a beckoning beacon to the truck and its driver. The slam of an all too close truck door dropped Jule to her knees. Burying her face in the snow, her shivering soon subsided as she began to blend with the chilled environment around her.
Then she did it.
Her fragile body went limp and cold with the inviting snow beneath her. The lifeless bushes nearby reached out to hide her. All was dark. All was cold. She was still.
The red sweater that once seemed so warm and comforting suddenly became a conspicuous alien clinging to her back, a beckoning beacon to the truck and its driver. The slam of an all too close truck door dropped Jule to her knees. Burying her face in the snow, her shivering soon subsided as she began to blend with the chilled environment around her.
Then she did it.
Her fragile body went limp and cold with the inviting snow beneath her. The lifeless bushes nearby reached out to hide her. All was dark. All was cold. She was still.
1.27.2008
Her Town (working title) - Chapter 1: The Beginning
Jule tore into the cold. The harsh wind nipped at her heels as she swept quickly, lightly into the deep forest surrounding her. The shadowed moon above lapped at her small footprints in the brittle, frozen snow as naked limbs snagged at her loosely hanging dress.
She was running. Running into the vast known. What laid beyond these trees wasn't a figurative fresh crop of new beginnings; no, what laid behind this soulless forest was a consecutive sequence of inconsequential -literal- crops. And down those dusty roads lining the hapless fields of cheap corn and soy beans, she knew she would only find a town that had vacuumed the innocuous hopes and dreams of all that came before her.
Thoughts callously turned in the girl's mind. The possibility of escaping this vortex of hopeless resignation to a life with which she felt she could do so much more gave her thoughts a veracity personified in the speed of her run.
Jule's dreams do not belong to this particular story though. The possession of this story is the town itself - all it held within and with all it kept outside.
She was running. Running into the vast known. What laid beyond these trees wasn't a figurative fresh crop of new beginnings; no, what laid behind this soulless forest was a consecutive sequence of inconsequential -literal- crops. And down those dusty roads lining the hapless fields of cheap corn and soy beans, she knew she would only find a town that had vacuumed the innocuous hopes and dreams of all that came before her.
Thoughts callously turned in the girl's mind. The possibility of escaping this vortex of hopeless resignation to a life with which she felt she could do so much more gave her thoughts a veracity personified in the speed of her run.
Jule's dreams do not belong to this particular story though. The possession of this story is the town itself - all it held within and with all it kept outside.
Posts
