I Hate Her. [The Drought of 29SC]
Hello. This lore-contest entry was never added to the wiki or forums, so here we go. It won second place in the contest for The Drought of 29SC.
The warm water covered my body, as if a well-tailored lingerie garment clinging desperately onto the hips of a slumbering goddess. Artisan soaps and bathing salts softened my skin and dirtied the water. My breasts peeking over the water as I outstretch my arms and hold my hair into place under the falling water from the baths many towering fountains.
The warm water covered me hands as I did me best to ignore them leftovers of the stinking soaps left to fester in the stale bucket of water. Each sliver of water in me crinkled and stained hands made its way into me, providing crucial nourishment. The water, cheapened from its use by them wealth-lovers in the once public baths; has found its way into me families home - the only luxury we all could afford in them lowest depths of a now desert city.
After allowing the water to drip off my body and onto the stone below, I covered my body in the silk gowns given to me by my fiance’s family. The lavender colored cloth bulged around my voluptuous hips as I headed out the chambers of the baths, my hair pulled back, my face displayed in all its glory, free of blemishes from the outside world. I raised my hand as I passed by the halls of naked women, formally signifying my retreat from our personal haven.
This hardened leather vest did its job as I continued my hike through them darkened streets of a city that acted as if I won’t even here. Hardly even knew what I meant to be looking for in a city as dry as this one, suppose a boat would be best. As I panned the streets, these cracked and crusted lips were the first to sense the remnant droplets of water sliding down her feminine frame. Don’t doubt she ever looked down from her horse drawn cart as she made not even a little attempt at saving the water from falling down onto the dirty street stones beneath the hoofs of her animals. I hate her.
The ride back home was especially rough, I was told the guards had cleared this passage home already; but the carriage was stopped multiple times by crowded streets. In one of those dreaded moments, I remember pulling back the curtains and looking out, trying to gain some context as to why my trip home was being delayed. I can’t explain why.. But this girl was staring at me, perhaps only a few years younger than me, but her deeply set eyes refused to budge as I attempted to break contact multiple times. Why?
Studied her well enough to realize she was watching me.. Them eyes reminded me of my baby sisters when momma would tell us no more till morning. Why?
My heart raced as she stood and the only distance between us was that of my carriage and the ground. Suddenly the stones beneath my horses hooves became all the more apparent and the judgement in her eyes seemed to spread like wildfire in the city around me. How dare she judge me, without knowing the charity my family has given to her..
Them scared too.. I realized before I collected my things and turned from the now mobile cart. No better than us I reckon; different at best; at worst… just like us.