legs and pity bread | elmo latch d10m one shots

cameron
Retired Staff

1,837 POSTS
Pronouns: all spoken with respect
last seen Jun 12, 2020 10:26:24 GMT -5

MY SHIT IS TOGETHER - Shy Aubergine

legs and pity bread | elmo latch d10m one shots Aug 31, 2019 8:46:44 GMT -5

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Post by cameron on Aug 31, 2019 8:46:44 GMT -5

Each day my body sank deeper into the bed, and my soul followed suit.

By noon the twins tugged on both my arms, stretchin’ me out till I’d have to cave, have to wrestle myself outta dirty sheets and take care of the bushy haired rascals. Too young to go through this shit alone. Too young to process. Kids of eleven should run, should learn, should sneak a calf into their bedroom and try to keep it like a stray cat (even though Kim was nearly as big as me and stomped ‘round like a pride-hungry keeper).

But goin’ through the motions was just as successful as the rebellion.

cameron
Retired Staff

1,837 POSTS
Pronouns: all spoken with respect
last seen Jun 12, 2020 10:26:24 GMT -5

MY SHIT IS TOGETHER - Shy Aubergine

legs and pity bread | elmo latch d10m one shots Aug 31, 2019 8:48:06 GMT -5

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Post by cameron on Aug 31, 2019 8:48:06 GMT -5

She was the damn best thing my eyes’d ever seen. I strained, brow furrowin’, my sanity in question, ‘cuz nothin’ was that good in district ten. Nothin’ had ever been that good in district ten. She was all hair and eyes and cheeks, and legs, and legs, and I was all shaken, and when those legs carried her closer I blinked in awe, absently lifting a hand to push my jaw shut.

Thank the skies Miss T took the girls to the creek.

We fell into my bed, an extra blanket on top to hide the sweat stains and dust, and she was all hair, and eyes, and cheeks,
and legs,
and legs,

And I was shaken.

cameron
Retired Staff

1,837 POSTS
Pronouns: all spoken with respect
last seen Jun 12, 2020 10:26:24 GMT -5

MY SHIT IS TOGETHER - Shy Aubergine

legs and pity bread | elmo latch d10m one shots Aug 31, 2019 8:50:00 GMT -5

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Post by cameron on Aug 31, 2019 8:50:00 GMT -5

I’d never known jack shit about bombs, or explosives, or petrochemical engineerin’. I hardly even knew what that meant. Ma and Pa hid that from us, hid themselves from us, to protect us. Couldn’t protect us much from the grave, but what’d I know.

Not jack shit.

That didn’t stop everyone and their chickens from askin’ for my family secrets at all hours of the day. They’d mask it in kindness, but their gestures weren’t sweet when their intent was so bitter. A loaf of bread, wrapped in a paper with “latch crab lessons soon?” written across in sloppy letters, their misplaced hope plastered across their sloppy faces, unsure if they should smile or scowl at the boy whose parents were now scraps in a field.

I’d take the bread and pretend I never saw their stupid note. I’d slice that loaf real thick, knowing more was just around the corner. “Y’all,” I’d call, “come on, we got more pity bread.”

cameron
Retired Staff

1,837 POSTS
Pronouns: all spoken with respect
last seen Jun 12, 2020 10:26:24 GMT -5

MY SHIT IS TOGETHER - Shy Aubergine

legs and pity bread | elmo latch d10m one shots Aug 31, 2019 9:13:12 GMT -5

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Post by cameron on Aug 31, 2019 9:13:12 GMT -5

There weren’t many farmers in ten, but a few old brutes wisened up to the landscape being perfect for cattle and started bottlin’ milk up on the outskirts. Beef and cheese went for far higher than most families could manage, but Ma and Pa kept us fed as best they could. There would be dry spells sure, but when they’d leave for a “sales pitch” they’d come back and load the icebox to the brim.

Kim musta come from one of those farms, but somehow tripped over faulty hooves all the way to our front door. I was runnin’ out with my bag packed full of stolen snacks and toilet paper, the essentials, ready to follow Ma and Pa to their lab, see just what it was they were doing in that building all day (‘cuz an eleven-year-old had the right to know!) when I fell right over her little cow body, landing on my back with the crunch of crackers.

When I pushed myself up, she licked my face, and dammit if we didn’t spend the rest of the day rollin’ in patches of grass and tastin’ the dry summer air.

The sun started to drop and Miss T rang her bell, and I wrapped my arms around Kim’s neck. “Listen here little lady, you’re my best friend.” Steamy breath warmed my neck. I let go and ran inside for dinner - thank the skies it wasn’t beef.