|Siggy (storrada) wrote in we_coexist,|
@ 2015-05-07 20:27:00
|Entry tags:||peggy carter, siggy, zz:status complete|
Real Housewives (Peggy)
Time had passed and Siggy remained in this strange place.
The strange Anglewoman, Peggy, allowed her to remain in her dwelling. It was akin to the monks' cells that she had heard Athelstan speak of, or a bee's hive: closed in, with no space for a proper hearth. There were no rushes on the floor: only wood and a rough fixed cloth-like material that must forever be dirty. Everything seemed both bright and open and too closed at the same time.
To pass the time and repay Peggy for her kindness, Siggy did what she knew: she could run the woman's house for her. She could cook, clean, and order her business. Unfortunately, there was not much to do. Peggy had no children to look after. She had no livestock to watch. Without a proper hearth, Siggy's cooking could not be put to proper use (though she had managed to make butter and start a cheese, which currently sat in the cold white box.) Her last attempt at making bread had failed in that miserable excuse for an oven. There was no loom with which to weave cloth, nor wool to spin.
At a loss, Siggy sat on the overly soft seat and pressed the buttons to make the things on the television change until she found something interesting. Something captivating. Something that she could relate to.
She was still enraptured when Peggy got home.