The Ashen Wrath (Watty's SHORTLIST recipient 2018) CHAPTERED VERSION

*12

       

"Everyone, keep it together. We'll get through this," said Granddad, unshakable as always as we all kneeled around the table.

Annie crawled into my arms, sensing the tension in the room. "It's alright, don't worry," I said, stroking her red hair. Inside though, my guts were lurching.

"They took away your quota," said Marta, her tears flowing. "If they don't think you're useful, then—"

"No use worrying about something we can't control," said Granddad.

"Besides," I interjected, "we don't know if Pop's Factory Quota's been repealed yet."

"Jobs are always cancelled at the same time, idiot!" said Marta, trying to catch her breath.

"We don't know that for sure!" I was either trying to stay positive or in complete denial.

"Listen children, people who've lost their usefulness aren't taken right away. It could be months before the stilt striders retrieve me. Remember old Samson Pled? They didn't come for him for almost a year."

"Almost a year," parroted Annie, as she played with my shirt buttons.

"Still, they're going to take you away from us!" said Marta, slumping lower. "The bastards!"

"Stop, we can't talk like this," said Granddad, looking out the window for a drone. "We will do what we always do, sur—"

"Survive, right?" interrupted Marta. "Survival isn't good enough! We're human beings, we deserve some happiness!" Her face became drawn as the light in her eyes extinguished. "Don't we?"

All of us went quiet, except for Annie, who clapped two wooden spoons together joyfully.

Granddad broke the silence. "We'll consider our options. For now, we must eat. Boy, get those beans off the fire."