Off-the-cuff writing on a given topic for 30 minutes (give or take a few). Sad, sappy, silly or serious. Always clean. Read, comment, join the fun and post your own.
Tuesday 16 July 2013
I Was Born Unimportant:
I think this was Sarah's prompt, back in April. She challenged me to join her in a quick response. I'll post mine in comments and ask her to post hers as well.
I was born unimportant. Worse than unimportant, a hiccup in a procession of important things. It was the fifth hour in the seventh day in the seventh month of the Reconciliation. Mother had spent those months mediating a treaty between the Ancients and the Feyfolk. She was closeted with the High Elder and the Forest Queen, reviewing the final draft, when her pains began.
I wasn't expected for another two weeks. And Mother had always been able to predict her time to the hour. Yet I was coming, and coming fast. After three pains in a quarter hour, she gave up on willing me to wait and called instead for the midwife.
A birthing tub was brought into the council room, and mother retired behind a screen, where she continued clarifying clauses between her pains.
It was halfway into the sixth hour when the High Elder balked at the wording of the Perpetual Trust. The Forest Queen retaliated with a storm of accusations, and that was when I gasped my first breath and began to squall.
Mother looked me over. The eighth daughter of a seventh daughter, I was apparently perfectly healthy and utterly normal. She handed me to the midwife, hastily robed herself, and hurried out from behind the screen in time to save the treaty. It was signed at the seventh minute of the seventh hour.
I was born unimportant. Worse than unimportant, a hiccup in a procession of important things. It was the fifth hour in the seventh day in the seventh month of the Reconciliation. Mother had spent those months mediating a treaty between the Ancients and the Feyfolk. She was closeted with the High Elder and the Forest Queen, reviewing the final draft, when her pains began.
ReplyDeleteI wasn't expected for another two weeks. And Mother had always been able to predict her time to the hour. Yet I was coming, and coming fast. After three pains in a quarter hour, she gave up on willing me to wait and called instead for the midwife.
A birthing tub was brought into the council room, and mother retired behind a screen, where she continued clarifying clauses between her pains.
It was halfway into the sixth hour when the High Elder balked at the wording of the Perpetual Trust. The Forest Queen retaliated with a storm of accusations, and that was when I gasped my first breath and began to squall.
Mother looked me over. The eighth daughter of a seventh daughter, I was apparently perfectly healthy and utterly normal. She handed me to the midwife, hastily robed herself, and hurried out from behind the screen in time to save the treaty. It was signed at the seventh minute of the seventh hour.