Post by Roselle Chaplet on Jul 30, 2017 0:42:47 GMT -5
Roselle tucked her knees up to her chest. She decided to rest under a large tree to escape the summer heat, if only for a moment. She had been walking for days, perhaps weeks, trying to find Detroit. Sweat specked her brow and she rubbed it with the back of her hand, knowing damn well her body will just make more. Her feet pulsated from overuse and she rubbed them together through her boots.
Roselle had heard from someone who had heard from someone who had heard from someone else that Michigan held a safe place, a place where you can be free. She’s heard that too many times and isn’t expecting Mt. Olympus, but she’s desperate. If she doesn’t find another place soon, she might die. She knows that. This could be a ruse, a place to lure people like flies on shit, but what other choice did she have? Wander around and wait to die? Starve, be attacked, be eaten? Even if it’s a lie, if it’s just a small hick settlement in the middle of nowhere, she can pretend like she wants to stay, take what she can, and bolt. It works most of the time; she’s had bullets shot at her from being caught but no one’s ever landed a hit. Yet.
She closed her eyes as her stomach gurgled and moaned like a dying animal. She supposes she is a dying animal. Mustering up the strength, she rifles through her bag. Yay, beans. Or at least she thinks they are. The label is worn and slightly bubbly from being waterlogged for whatever reason. She contemplates eating them but decides she can wait. It’s not like she has an unlimited supply.
Stretching, she lifts herself up and gathers whatever it is she can call her own. Time to move again. Hopefully towards a future that isn’t as bleak as she thinks it will be.
Roselle had heard from someone who had heard from someone who had heard from someone else that Michigan held a safe place, a place where you can be free. She’s heard that too many times and isn’t expecting Mt. Olympus, but she’s desperate. If she doesn’t find another place soon, she might die. She knows that. This could be a ruse, a place to lure people like flies on shit, but what other choice did she have? Wander around and wait to die? Starve, be attacked, be eaten? Even if it’s a lie, if it’s just a small hick settlement in the middle of nowhere, she can pretend like she wants to stay, take what she can, and bolt. It works most of the time; she’s had bullets shot at her from being caught but no one’s ever landed a hit. Yet.
She closed her eyes as her stomach gurgled and moaned like a dying animal. She supposes she is a dying animal. Mustering up the strength, she rifles through her bag. Yay, beans. Or at least she thinks they are. The label is worn and slightly bubbly from being waterlogged for whatever reason. She contemplates eating them but decides she can wait. It’s not like she has an unlimited supply.
Stretching, she lifts herself up and gathers whatever it is she can call her own. Time to move again. Hopefully towards a future that isn’t as bleak as she thinks it will be.