*Apples

Longish one, I got carried away. Meet Maät, who by pure coincidence shares a name with the ancient Egyptian goddess of fate. ...is it really coincidence? I like to think not.

Creative writing exercise, a short story based on the word (and with the title):

Apples


The sky smelled of apples. The smell came from the valley ahead, the forest sprawling on the slopes rich with wild apple trees. Maät descended, hoping her good luck would hold. Alongside the apples, the sky smelled of rain, and the last time she spent a night out in the rain was when she was five, and that was in a city. Her bare feet landed on the rough forest floor. Leaves and branches crackled underneath, every sound so different this close to earth. She glanced upwards, where clouds were gathering quickly, and thought she could see a glimpse of the palace in the churning sky. Well. She had no one to thank for this mess but herself, and she'd damn well solve it, too. Making her way towards the watery rushing sounds of a forest stream, she hoped she could see it through to the end, without getting distracted for once.

The stream was in fact a waterfall, and Maät stood on a cliff, in the combined darkness of night and an overcast sky. Her hair, heavy with rain, was starting to come loose and she plucked it out of her face. She was looking hard into the distance where she thought she could see the outline of a building in the hills below. It was impossible to tell from here if it was a temple, a town hall or a hallucination. Grumbling, she planted her fists on her hips, looking down the waterfall. There was no apparent path down, and in the twilight she couldn't tell if there was a big enough pool to land in, were she to take the jump. Her lacking sense if depth wasn't helping either, she couldn't say how far the fall would be even in bright sunlight. With the foolishness of someone used to things working out, she picked up her bundle of apples, and stepped over the edge.

The water was mountain-cold, colder than the rain. Maät rolled up into a ball, clutching her apples. The stream bounced her off a few rocks before she could surface again. She gasped and struggled to the bank, glad her light cotton clothes weren't that heavy even soaked with water. Unfortunately, that also meant they'd offered little protection in the fall, and she cursed the darkness, the water and the rocks equally while inspecting her bruises. With a sigh, she turned towards her hopes of a village, and realised that down here there were quite a lot of trees in the way, and she couldn't see a thing.

Rain fell from the leaves and between the trees onto the forest floor. The rain was heave enough that trying to stay dry was a fool's task, and since she was already soaking from her earlier dip, Maät didn't even bother to try. She could see the mysterious building through the trees now, even though the night had only got darker. It was made of wood and light stone, which was all she could say until she broke clear of the trees. There were two buildings, in fact, on a rise in the forest. A house that looked like it was pulled together from fallen wood, and a stone tower. Maät stumbled into the house, the level texture of wood under her feet a welcome change. Walking over leaves and branches could get rather painful for unaccustomed feet. Inside, a stout woman looked up, startled, from a steaming bowl. With a tired grin, Maät held up her dripping bundle.

"I brought apples."

Whoo-ps.

Months with no news! I will never be a successful writer! ...actually, I've already accepted that.

But! To my 1,5 readers, I'll try to y'know, write more. Sometimes I wish I lived in a fantasy world, things seem to work out for the main characters there. I'm still wondering what the hell I'm going to live on, doubting whether or not we get to keep our house, trying to get over hating myself, etc.

I think it's time I start writing again.