. (figmentations) wrote in repose, @ 2020-03-16 12:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | *narrative, fable white |
Narrative: Fable
Who: Fable.
What: Narrative.
Where: Cabin, Woods.
When: Evening, now.
Warnings/Rating: None.
Fable didn’t like franks and beans anymore, especially cold. The gas stove had run out of fuel and there weren’t any more tanks in the storage shed. Abel’s lighters no longer flickered when she tried to use them. So yes, they were cold, but she was hungry and her stomach typically won out during arguments. She sat in the old oak tree in front of the cabin, bare legs dangling, a spoonful of sugary franks and beans in her mouth as she watched the sun start its descent down the horizon in a trail of fiery colors melting in the sky. She could feel cool shadows of the branches following the sun on her skin. The nights were still chilly, but it was getting better. She found herself curling up in her bed and cocooning until the dark disappeared and the light of day came back. It was the only time she used the piece of furniture unless she was reading. At least she still had batteries for her precious radio. It sang songs to her during the long days and nights while she waited. Patient--or trying to be patient. She couldn’t remember how many suns had gone down and come back up since Abel last went into town. She should have marked them down. Scraping out the last bit of food from the can she took a final bite. So sweet and vinegary. Maybe when the morning came she’d eat green beans instead, salty sounded better now. Gripping the empty canned good she scrambled down the tree and back toward the cabin the soles of her bare feet stepping along twigs and pebbles minding the new green that was timidly starting to sprout along the soil. Her eyes roamed to the tracks along the dirt from his car. They were fading. The tracks spiraled out into the grass and far away leading to a road, a road that lead to town and the town was where Fable was never to go. Roads and paths that could not be taken. So inside the cabin she went; the scent of old wood and must soon surrounded her in familiarity. Fable tossed the spoon into the sink, it clanged loudly--louder than the can crashing into the garbage. Her stomach was happy now, even if her tongue was not. She glanced about the cabin. Abel’s tweed hat still sat on the rickety table top along with his pack of camels with two cigarettes still inside. Hopefully he wouldn’t be mad about using up his drawer of lighters. He’d get more, or maybe he was out getting some right now. Were there long lines for lighters and fuel? Maybe they stretched on for miles. Maybe he got into a fight over a black one. Abel liked black. He liked Fable in white. Maybe that’s why her eyes were gray when she woke up so long ago. She sat at the table alone and stretched her fingers out to the hat running the tips over the fabric, they gathered up dust as she did. He’d be back and then she’d eat something warm again, take hot showers again, have lights around the house again. She’d play music on her radio for him and dance around the cabin in the way that made him laugh. He’d tell her stories about all the people he saw when he was gone. One of her favorites, from one of the previous town, was the woman who walked around town with curlers in her hair and bedtime slippers because she said at her age she could do whatever she wanted. That thought made her giggle, she saw strange things in dreams but that was expected, to see strange things in life? That was a treasure. Maybe one day she’d see it too. Fable didn’t want to think of The Very Bad Men or any other possibilities. She didn’t let her mind go there. Tonight she’d go looking for him among the hidden trails. Reach out again. He’d be back very soon, he promised, but still, it didn’t hurt to try. Yes, he’d be back very soon. He had to be. She thought of those fading tracks. Maybe she'd need to follow them soon, despite rules, despite warnings, despite how angry Abel might be. Follow them before they disappeared, in case his car never came back shining unnaturally within the woods. If she didn't find him tonight? She'd take the path to town even if it was against the rules. If no one saw her it'd be okay. It'd be okay. |