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31_days2008-05-17 10:17 am
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2008-05-17 10:17 am
[May 17, 2008][Original] Orissa
Title: Orissa
Day/Theme: May 17, 2008 "Did I dream this belief, or did I believe this dream?"
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Athame, a farmer
Rating: G
"Headed into the interior, neighbor?" asked a sun-browned man leaning on the last rickety fence to mark the landscape.
The long-haired girl nodded solemnly. She barely paused to make eye contact with the farmer as she continued her walk into the dry scrubland.
"There's nothing out there, girl!" the man called after her. "You're crazy! You'll just get lost in the hills and run out of supplies and come back empty-handed! There's barely an animal out there!"
The girl did not turn back. She did not even look over her shoulder. The dry grass crackled underneath her tiny feet.
"Are you crazy?!" he yelled. "What's wrong with you? What do you think is out there?!" He couldn't let it go. He hadn't seen anyone go past his lands to the interior for three years. And that last fellow had been a large, strong-looking man. The man had come back a week later, tired and bedraggled. The farmer had sold him some food, let him rest in his barn, and once the man had marched back toward the safety of the Greenbelt and its battling nation-states the farmer had never seen or heard of him again. What did such a scrawny little girl think she could accomplish out there?
The girl stopped and looked back. The higher of the two ribbons in her hair brushed against her cheek. "Orissa," she said cryptically.
"What?" the man gaped. He wiped sweat from his brow. She had spoken softly. There was a chance he had misheard her.
"Orissa," she repeated. She seemed to think it unnecessary to say anything else.
"Orissa," he mimicked, turning the word over on his tongue. It had a strange, enticing sound, even to a homely man who'd never been more than ten miles from the farm he had inherited from his father. It was almost as though the word itself held a magical draw. The farmer lifted his eyes to the unknown landscape of the hill country. What was Orissa? What was out there?
The girl had started walking again. She gave no indication of dropping any hints as to the nature of this Orissa. Could there really be some place worthy of a name somewhere across that barren landscape? The man clenched his rough fingers into fists. Part of him yearned to run after her and say, "I want to see Orissa! Take me with you!" But he was at heart a rational, grounded man. He had fields to tend. Why run off on some fool's errand?
But still...
The girl had nearly vanished over the slightly sloping horizon.
But still...
"Orissa," he whispered, savoring the name.
"Orissa."
Day/Theme: May 17, 2008 "Did I dream this belief, or did I believe this dream?"
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Athame, a farmer
Rating: G
"Headed into the interior, neighbor?" asked a sun-browned man leaning on the last rickety fence to mark the landscape.
The long-haired girl nodded solemnly. She barely paused to make eye contact with the farmer as she continued her walk into the dry scrubland.
"There's nothing out there, girl!" the man called after her. "You're crazy! You'll just get lost in the hills and run out of supplies and come back empty-handed! There's barely an animal out there!"
The girl did not turn back. She did not even look over her shoulder. The dry grass crackled underneath her tiny feet.
"Are you crazy?!" he yelled. "What's wrong with you? What do you think is out there?!" He couldn't let it go. He hadn't seen anyone go past his lands to the interior for three years. And that last fellow had been a large, strong-looking man. The man had come back a week later, tired and bedraggled. The farmer had sold him some food, let him rest in his barn, and once the man had marched back toward the safety of the Greenbelt and its battling nation-states the farmer had never seen or heard of him again. What did such a scrawny little girl think she could accomplish out there?
The girl stopped and looked back. The higher of the two ribbons in her hair brushed against her cheek. "Orissa," she said cryptically.
"What?" the man gaped. He wiped sweat from his brow. She had spoken softly. There was a chance he had misheard her.
"Orissa," she repeated. She seemed to think it unnecessary to say anything else.
"Orissa," he mimicked, turning the word over on his tongue. It had a strange, enticing sound, even to a homely man who'd never been more than ten miles from the farm he had inherited from his father. It was almost as though the word itself held a magical draw. The farmer lifted his eyes to the unknown landscape of the hill country. What was Orissa? What was out there?
The girl had started walking again. She gave no indication of dropping any hints as to the nature of this Orissa. Could there really be some place worthy of a name somewhere across that barren landscape? The man clenched his rough fingers into fists. Part of him yearned to run after her and say, "I want to see Orissa! Take me with you!" But he was at heart a rational, grounded man. He had fields to tend. Why run off on some fool's errand?
But still...
The girl had nearly vanished over the slightly sloping horizon.
But still...
"Orissa," he whispered, savoring the name.
"Orissa."