Our Condolences 2

Our Condolences

second letter

16th day of Samthir, 948

Dearest Angel,

    It is good to hear from you, and that you're getting along well with your platoon. Little Albert has started to refuse to go to school, saying he needs your goodbye kiss before he can go. There are mornings when I have to drag him out of bed. I explain as best I can, where you have gone, or why you can't come back but he doesn't understand. Yet he diligently comes with me to the temple so we can pray that Tutala will keep you safe as you fight and Matlyth will use his speed to bring your letters to us.

    I often find him curled up in your closet with Margie, her tail draped around him as if trying to hold him close. It saddens my heart that you can't be here to comfort him, but I will hold onto your letters so I can read your words to little Albert even when he can't hear your voice.

    Even though Albert is acting up, it's not all bad here. I know you were worried about food tickets since others haven't received theirs yet, despite their loved ones being deployed for a month or more. You can put those worries to bed, ours have started coming in and while money will be a little tight, it won't be too bad. We miss you and hope you can come back soon.

    Lovingly,

                Sam

 

 

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Our Condolences 1

Our Condolences

first letter

30th day of Chaelir, 948

My Dear Sammy,

    I have arrived safely and can send and receive letters. You will be glad to know, the other women in my platoon are friendly. Bethany is the Youngest of us, only 16, but she is not afraid of battle. We Have taken to calling her Beth, because she does not look like a Bethany. Two others are mothers: Rosanne has twin daughters only a couple years older than Albert; Edith, who is the oldest, has a son who is fully grown. Edith tells us she wishes we had more time with our families before we were dragged into the war, and, in general, acts like the mother of the group. 

    The one I worry about most is Opal, she is only a little older than Beth but she's the most excited about being here. Almost every word that comes out of her mouth is Loyalist propaganda and speeches. We tend to ignore her words, but she often argues with Edith, declaring our purpose in being here is not just to serve out country but our families, by keeping them safe. Edith will snap back by saying we can serve out families just fine without being hundreds of miles away from them. Minnie is the most cheerful, even when Edith and Opal fight she can find a way to break them up peacefully. She makes me laugh when I miss home the most. I find I'm missing you more, the farther away I am. I will write as often as I can. 

    Forever Yours,
                Angeline

 

 

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Update!

    Hello! it has been a while. It feels like longer than it actually has been probably because I've switched towns, schools, apartments, and even my computer. Anyway, I was looking at Calypso's Rage yesterday and I really want to continue it but it needs more thought then I've previously given it so for the moment Calypso's Rage is on hiatus.
    I don't want to just leave you with an update and I have stuff from school that is building up with no one to see how proud I am off it. You guys get to experience the "finished drafts". They will start in my posting tomorrow with a story I call Our Condolences.
    Before we get started you should know Our Condolences takes place through letters written between a husband and wife. The world it takes place in is not ours, you can think of it as an alternate reality or a whole other planet, both can work. It is the first time I've written through letters but I think it turned out well. I became super interested as I wrote so I may visit this world again for a different piece. It's a fasinating world which is hard to explore in these letter but hopefully you get a glimpse.

Rose B.

Sick

I'm finally getting better after being sick so I'll be able to post an update this week.
Rose B.

Reporters

    Reporters are trained to develop a sixth sense, a nose for when a story smells fishy. And something about this one wasn't right. First of all, this woman looked a little too excited to see me. No one was ever that excited about an unannounced press visit. We were called vultures, parasites and scum most of the time. I had been called worse things from time to time but welcomed? No, never welcomed. Especially, this close to the discovery. And secondly, the look in the woman's eyes was something closer to satisfaction than sorrow.
    I watched her carefully behind my mask of pleasantness. She gave me the same spiel she gave the police pausing only to ask if I wanted more tea. I wrote it all down despite not believing a word of it. Her smile was barely contained when she expressed shock and despair at hearing how the girl had been beaten and assaulted.
    I uttered sympathy when she explained having to find a new babysitter. Never letting on that I knew she was lying. It all clicked into place when she told me she was thinking of getting a boy sitter this time instead of a girl, but she had yet to mention it to her husband since he locked himself in his room with grief and had yet to emerge.
    I bid her good day and strolled away from the house. My mind spinning as I couldn't wait to tell my boss that the babysitter had been sleeping with the husband and that was probably why the wife had her killed.

Dreamer

I lived in this town my whole life, and most of the time that's fine by me. But in late fall when the sky fills with birds migrating south for the winter, traveling thousands of miles, I get homesick for places I've never been. Places like New York, Rome, and London. Nothing ever happens in this small community and sometimes I just wish for excitement. There are no drastic changes or unexpected surprises here. All the normal stuff happens kids rebel, relationships end but eventually, everyone marries their high school sweetheart and settles down. Very rarely does someone decide to leave but even when that happens it's not surprising.
I doubt I will ever leave this town. I have no reason to leave but it doesn't stop me from wishing something, anything would happen.
My family calls me a dreamer. I think it's the most accurate description. I don't have the courage to be an adventurer or the confidence to be a rebel. No, I sit at home and dream of other things, other places that I'll never go.

Winter

    The wind whispered through the dark, empty trees like a warning in a foreign language. Winter was coming, and with winter, all life would seem to stop. The part would shut down and no travelers would be able to get through the snow. The residents of our port town would stay locked in their homes.
    I breathed in the cooling air. All the merchants selling winter wares would be gone in two days, just before the water froze over and no more ships could get through. I slipped through the trees, silently as possible so as not to startle the wildlife. Just two days left until the world would freeze, and I would no longer be able to enjoy the woods. Then it would be several months until the bravest soul would venture out into the winter.
    I checked a trap I had set out before glancing up at the orange and pink sky. There was still some time before dark I could check the last trap before I had to travel back. As I moved on a shuffling sound came from my right. I froze. It wasn't the wind it sounded almost...human.
    The shuffling came again and I crept towards it, slowly. I stopped behind some bushes and moved a branch to see into the clearing beyond. A boy lay on the freezing ground. I blinked in surprise before moving closer. His clothes were light and clearly weren't meant for the winter. His blond hair was longer than I expected but still short enough to see his eyes were closed.
    He shivered creating the shuffling sound I heard. I felt my lips twitched into a smile, maybe something good had come in with the winter. But first things first, I had to get the mysterious boy somewhere safe and warm.