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OLAD - Red Shoes
Oct. 28th, 2007 02:31 amIt's a cold winter day. Life in the city of Raivin continues, regardless. People scramble for food and shelter. Craftsmen manufacture wares to be sold. Dockworkers unload goods. And life at the Vargatorix household has returned to normal after a day or two of crisis.
Business in the so-called Grand Laundry of Raivin is in a bit of a slump except for piles and piles of diapers. It's stinky work for a grumpy Mithra, but it brings in a healthy flow of cash. The man of the house, Saylin, is manning the laundry's counter. His own business, as a blacksmith, has been slow lately too, not that he really minded or cared. He still had enough work to spend some time every evening at it, and even that he regretted; he would much rather be with his wives.
Upstairs, dinner simmers on the stove, and bakes in the oven. The blond-haired chef is finished up serving another meal, however. Her cute little baby, the most important thing to her in the whole world, is finally getting sated. She giggles and kisses his forehead when he finally stops acting like a leech. She spends a few minutes burping him, then carries him into the bedroom and puts him in his crib, wrapping him up in a nice warm bundle.
She stretched. There's that box again. She picked it up and shook it. It was her present from her parents - that she thought were dead. She frowned at its label, "To Reisma."
She gave in. She sat on the bed and opened it. Inside was a pair of red shoes, with gold laces. She didn't like them at first, but after a few minutes of walking around in them, she decided that she didn't mind. She's still mad at her parents, but the shoes are nice.
Business in the so-called Grand Laundry of Raivin is in a bit of a slump except for piles and piles of diapers. It's stinky work for a grumpy Mithra, but it brings in a healthy flow of cash. The man of the house, Saylin, is manning the laundry's counter. His own business, as a blacksmith, has been slow lately too, not that he really minded or cared. He still had enough work to spend some time every evening at it, and even that he regretted; he would much rather be with his wives.
Upstairs, dinner simmers on the stove, and bakes in the oven. The blond-haired chef is finished up serving another meal, however. Her cute little baby, the most important thing to her in the whole world, is finally getting sated. She giggles and kisses his forehead when he finally stops acting like a leech. She spends a few minutes burping him, then carries him into the bedroom and puts him in his crib, wrapping him up in a nice warm bundle.
She stretched. There's that box again. She picked it up and shook it. It was her present from her parents - that she thought were dead. She frowned at its label, "To Reisma."
She gave in. She sat on the bed and opened it. Inside was a pair of red shoes, with gold laces. She didn't like them at first, but after a few minutes of walking around in them, she decided that she didn't mind. She's still mad at her parents, but the shoes are nice.