To send me out to the wilds with this squabble of brats, I must have done something cruel to fate.
It’s a beautiful morning. Summer’s heat has passed and the trees are just starting to turn. After I finished my chores, I planned to sneak off with a book for a few hours, enjoy the fall now that harvesting is through monopolizing my life. But Momma caught me before I set foot off the yard. She wanted more tree bark and roots. Oh, and because that’s not painful enough, I also had to take some of the kids with me. I almost hope one of the monsters is out there to kill me.
Since no amount of protests convinced her otherwise, I’m stuck ushering them towards the edge of the compound. The force field is still up, keeping us safe under its rosy dome, but there’s only about fifteen minutes until it’s down for the day. The color deepens as we approach the border, veiling the forest beyond in magenta.
It’s pretty, calming, but my sense of peace is roughly cut off when the two littlest kids knock into me. I yell at them to stop horsing around, not that it does any good. They run off through the trees and I don’t feel like chasing after them. They’ll be fine anyway.