This morning I woke on the wrong side of the sleeping furs. I felt...grumpy. Nothing worked right and I had overslept on top of it all. The furs had been too warm, but as soon as I stepped from the layers, I felt chilled all over. I felt myself grumbling, if not audibly, inwardly as I finally made it to the platform and the start of my day.
The world looked like some great artist in the Sky had decided to start all over with the sketch of the world. Everything looked completely drained of color, replaced instead with a variety of shades of gray. Steel and iron, charcoal and pewter, and bright spots of silver. My mood matched the day I was surprised to see.
Damp clumps of dung rolled into soggy sacks while I kept having to pause and stretch my fingers. My head thrummed, all the way down to the roots of my hair. My eyes felt as if I had been staring at the Central Fire in a dust storm all day, except there was neither.
My day grew, as I slogged through the chores and tasks that normally gave me inspiration and delight and purpose of some sort. Two baskets of laundry ...one of Mistress Asria's and one of Master's were laying on the grass drying in the smoke puff wisps of air. I had decided to wash my shift, thinking a fresh garment might perk up the spirits.
I lay down, just for a little while, to wait while everything dried. I sneezed several times while finding the cradle of grass to conform to my liking. My nose was running, my head felt stuffed with socks, and I finally realized...I was..sick.
I woke to the slivers of shimmering moon above, hanging in a clear sapphire sky. I had dreamt of Yama in a big barrel of soup, Uncle Dray kept building a fire right under my feet, Etta kept peeking around the wagon flaps to see me and my Master held me against His thigh where the leather creased and wrinkled my cheek.
I hurried to gather up the laundry and deliver the baskets, and then realized I had completely forgotten to put on my shift. I tugged it over my head, feeling the dampness still attached to the weave of fabric. It clung in folds over my body and rippled only at the very edges. The basket for Mistress Asria was quietly presented to her wagon platform, and I continued my journey back to Master's wagon, feeling not at all rested.
Passing through the main camp, I gave a quick glance but nothing more. I was already late, past the time Master told me to be ..home. My head was oddly weighted and my beautiful bells rang more often than I ever recalled before. I saw a few gathered around the painful orange glow of fire. A few men scrambling and tussling and grabbing at each other. It wasn't..that ..uncommon...to see men spar and scuffle. I got a glimpse of just one as I turned to walk past the end of a wagon - the face of Seveya's Uncle.
I slept then, and while it was deep enough to bring such a wildness of dreams that nothing clung to me in the morning, it was restless enough that I felt every floor board. I could smell the mustiness that clung to some part of the wagon canvas. I knew when a kaiila came too close to the wagons, and I could smell something...cooking. And I knew it was nothing I would ever eat. I slept, without even putting away the laundry or changing from my shift, never waking until the moonlight had once more given way to the rainbow in the sky.
The world looked like some great artist in the Sky had decided to start all over with the sketch of the world. Everything looked completely drained of color, replaced instead with a variety of shades of gray. Steel and iron, charcoal and pewter, and bright spots of silver. My mood matched the day I was surprised to see.
Damp clumps of dung rolled into soggy sacks while I kept having to pause and stretch my fingers. My head thrummed, all the way down to the roots of my hair. My eyes felt as if I had been staring at the Central Fire in a dust storm all day, except there was neither.
My day grew, as I slogged through the chores and tasks that normally gave me inspiration and delight and purpose of some sort. Two baskets of laundry ...one of Mistress Asria's and one of Master's were laying on the grass drying in the smoke puff wisps of air. I had decided to wash my shift, thinking a fresh garment might perk up the spirits.
I lay down, just for a little while, to wait while everything dried. I sneezed several times while finding the cradle of grass to conform to my liking. My nose was running, my head felt stuffed with socks, and I finally realized...I was..sick.
I woke to the slivers of shimmering moon above, hanging in a clear sapphire sky. I had dreamt of Yama in a big barrel of soup, Uncle Dray kept building a fire right under my feet, Etta kept peeking around the wagon flaps to see me and my Master held me against His thigh where the leather creased and wrinkled my cheek.
I hurried to gather up the laundry and deliver the baskets, and then realized I had completely forgotten to put on my shift. I tugged it over my head, feeling the dampness still attached to the weave of fabric. It clung in folds over my body and rippled only at the very edges. The basket for Mistress Asria was quietly presented to her wagon platform, and I continued my journey back to Master's wagon, feeling not at all rested.
Passing through the main camp, I gave a quick glance but nothing more. I was already late, past the time Master told me to be ..home. My head was oddly weighted and my beautiful bells rang more often than I ever recalled before. I saw a few gathered around the painful orange glow of fire. A few men scrambling and tussling and grabbing at each other. It wasn't..that ..uncommon...to see men spar and scuffle. I got a glimpse of just one as I turned to walk past the end of a wagon - the face of Seveya's Uncle.
I slept then, and while it was deep enough to bring such a wildness of dreams that nothing clung to me in the morning, it was restless enough that I felt every floor board. I could smell the mustiness that clung to some part of the wagon canvas. I knew when a kaiila came too close to the wagons, and I could smell something...cooking. And I knew it was nothing I would ever eat. I slept, without even putting away the laundry or changing from my shift, never waking until the moonlight had once more given way to the rainbow in the sky.
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