And because I didn't feel like adding more to one of my other writings, I took a break and wrote this up. 815 words, is that okay?
My house is small. It's nothing much more than a door, three walls, and a roof wedged up against a cliff on a mountain. It's windy here. Anya's always afraid that the house will blow away, but I get to reassure her that it won't. However, it's cold as well. The roof sags with the snow, and flakes drift in on the wintry wind through the cracks around the floor and around the warped glass of the windows.
Today it snowed even more, small flecks drifting from the ceiling. Neither of us wants to go out today, but what has to be done gets done.
We need more food. No question about it. The hole we dug in the ground, packed the fruit and honey in with snow, is just about empty. We're talking a few grapes and a rotten-looking pear no one wants to touch.
I rolled over and woke up Anya. Anya's small, but is exiteable. She has silvery hair, long, to her waist, and a strange passion for the theft that keeps us alive. I just prefer a quick job, in and out and done.
But on the inside, I want to learn. I can read; I'm not uneducated. But we're far away, and whenever a scrap of newprint falls into my hands, I devour it. Anya looks down on me for this.
But back to the point. Food.
Anya grabed a ragged jacket and we piled onto the long board and sledded down the mountainside. The board cut the snow, spraying frothy whiteness into our faces. Anya let out a shriek of delight.
Then, inevitably, the ride had to end. I rolled off, tugging Anya with me, and the board continues barreling down the slope.
The village bustles with uncharacteristic activity. We slid into the crowd. A young man, a trader by the looks, selling paper information, was the cause.
My heart raced at the thought of all the words to be read, and before I know it Anya'd left me behind, heading for a fruit vendor. Anya's good at stealing. People take one glance at her innocent face and trust her.
Their mistake.
I drifted towards the man. He casted me and my rags a glance, and assumed I had no money. This time, though, I do.
A week ago, a caravan bustled through town. I slipped up next to a rich woman, dug my hand into her pocket, and pulled out a relic; a leathery band and a crystal disk.
Anya disapproved of me taking the risk, but she always takes risks, so why shouldn't I?
"What do you want?" asked the man without looking up. "And don't think I won't notice you stealing."
Offended, I proffered the device and pointed at several newsprints that caught my eye. I wanted to know more about the world, but we were secluded here, in the mountains. No news passed through to us.
The man was goggling at the device, and after a stunned silence, ripped it from my palm. "I know you," he whispered to the crystal surface.
I waited patiently, organizing the papers I wanted into a pile. Anya would doubtless be cross about me 'wasting my time on the learned men's kuld.' But I wanted, no,
needed, to know. It was a hunger, more real than the physical one gnawing my gut.
The man twisted a knob and the crystal surface lit up, revealing a little hologram of a young woman. I gasped. I'd never seen such tech. Another sign of my ignorance. "Averakade," whispered the young man, and such was the emotion in his eyes that I felt as if I were trespassing. The people waiting behind me grumbled about the delay.
He snapped the watch shut and asked me in rough tones, "Where did you get this?"
I lifted one shoulder. That's a secret. If he knew I was a theif, he'd probably drag me off to the jail. And then Anya would starve without me, because she always goes for the wrong targets when she steals.
But the man grabbed my shoulders and shook me to punctuate his words. "Where...did....you...get...this?"
I cleared my little-used voice and said, "A lady and her group came through town last week."
His face softened. "She's so close..." Then he shut off the machine. "Here. Take them. Take them all." He shoved the papers in my direction, and I gathered them up with glee. "And," he murmured, "so you understand me..." He pressed another paper into my palm, and then collapsed his vendor, leapt on a sure-footed horse, and sped away.
People grumbled more, but I was flying inside.
Finally, words, after the longest period in which I had nothing to read, and all the scraps were memorized. Here were ample answers to all my questions. Forgetting everything, the flow of people around me, the freezing weather, even Anya with the food, I sat down and began to read.
