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Stranded World, for my Hurt/Comfort card.
Okay, this is 7500 words long, and it rambles in places. I may clean it up at some point, but right now, I'm just glad I found an end to it :-)
Content warning for discussion of death, actual dead bodies, removal of free will.
There had been something wrong with the town from the moment she walked in.
Autumn had walked into any number of small towns in her years as a vagabond artist. Some of them looked sidelong at her wild hair, at her wild clothes, at her wild tattoos. Some of the tutted over her bare feet, her backpack, her sunburn (for she was often sunburned). Some of them welcomed her only when she made it clear she had money to spend.
Pattersonville, nobody seemed to notice. She walked into the diner -- pausing to put on her shoes, first, because people had Opinions -- ordered her breakfast-for-dinner that she preferred, and looked around. Nobody seemed to notice her. Nobody hassled her about her tattoos, or the henna patterns sneaking out of from under her hair and around her shoulders. Nobody said anything, except the waitress taking her order, and that, that might have been a recording. The woman was perky, cheerful, and had about as much humanity as the table did. The men at the bar, the family at the table next to hers -- everyone had that fake feeling, like they were mannequins given only the semblance of life.
Autumn ate her food. Then she left the town, walking out the opposite way she'd come in, and kept walking until she'd passed the town limits sign, and then further, until she could no longer see the sign when she turned around.
( Read more... )
Okay, this is 7500 words long, and it rambles in places. I may clean it up at some point, but right now, I'm just glad I found an end to it :-)
Content warning for discussion of death, actual dead bodies, removal of free will.
There had been something wrong with the town from the moment she walked in.
Autumn had walked into any number of small towns in her years as a vagabond artist. Some of them looked sidelong at her wild hair, at her wild clothes, at her wild tattoos. Some of the tutted over her bare feet, her backpack, her sunburn (for she was often sunburned). Some of them welcomed her only when she made it clear she had money to spend.
Pattersonville, nobody seemed to notice. She walked into the diner -- pausing to put on her shoes, first, because people had Opinions -- ordered her breakfast-for-dinner that she preferred, and looked around. Nobody seemed to notice her. Nobody hassled her about her tattoos, or the henna patterns sneaking out of from under her hair and around her shoulders. Nobody said anything, except the waitress taking her order, and that, that might have been a recording. The woman was perky, cheerful, and had about as much humanity as the table did. The men at the bar, the family at the table next to hers -- everyone had that fake feeling, like they were mannequins given only the semblance of life.
Autumn ate her food. Then she left the town, walking out the opposite way she'd come in, and kept walking until she'd passed the town limits sign, and then further, until she could no longer see the sign when she turned around.
( Read more... )
