Myshuno! 2012 - piece 17
Title: Burnt
Prompt: Burning the food for an important dinner. (silverbelle1220)
Rating: U.
Spoiler rating: 8/10.
Summary: Clockwork lets a certain person down.
Notes: Fairly high spoiler rating due to the fact it references something in the future. Also, I've not found any reliable facts for how long a bottle jack runs. The Victorian Farm which was shown a few years ago, had 10 minutes between windings, but whether that is due to the age of the bottle jack used or a usual amount of time, I can't say.
Word Count: 310
Marielle entered her cottage to the smell of burning. With a cry she dropped her basket and dashed to the meat screen in front of her range. Pausing only to grab the thick cloth she used to protect her hands from the hot metal, she wrenched the screen round, turning the meat away from the searing heat of the fire. The clockwork of the bottle jack she had found secreted in one of the drawers to her kitchen table, had given up the ghost whilst she had been out, and the leg of mutton had stopped turning. Now one side was blackened and charred, whilst the rest was still raw. A sob rose in her throat. Albert and his wife were due to dine with her and now she had nothing to give them. What was meant to be a bridge building evening already looked as if it was destined to end in disaster.
She sank to her knees in despair as she looked at the ruined piece of meat in front of her. She had no money to go and buy another joint from the butcher, and she would rather die than admit she could not feed her son and his wife, not when she had been the one to suggest this evening. She sat unmoving and unseeing for a while before leaping up and hefting her stock pot down. She had swede, carrots and other root vegetables in the garden. She could cut off the bits of meat that weren’t burnt and make a mutton stew. It may not be as fancy as the roasted joint she had planned, but it would be hot, hearty and taste just as good. Marielle Legacy had weathered many storms in her life, and she was not going to be defeated by a broken bottle jack and a burnt leg of mutton.
Prompt: Burning the food for an important dinner. (silverbelle1220)
Rating: U.
Spoiler rating: 8/10.
Summary: Clockwork lets a certain person down.
Notes: Fairly high spoiler rating due to the fact it references something in the future. Also, I've not found any reliable facts for how long a bottle jack runs. The Victorian Farm which was shown a few years ago, had 10 minutes between windings, but whether that is due to the age of the bottle jack used or a usual amount of time, I can't say.
Word Count: 310
Marielle entered her cottage to the smell of burning. With a cry she dropped her basket and dashed to the meat screen in front of her range. Pausing only to grab the thick cloth she used to protect her hands from the hot metal, she wrenched the screen round, turning the meat away from the searing heat of the fire. The clockwork of the bottle jack she had found secreted in one of the drawers to her kitchen table, had given up the ghost whilst she had been out, and the leg of mutton had stopped turning. Now one side was blackened and charred, whilst the rest was still raw. A sob rose in her throat. Albert and his wife were due to dine with her and now she had nothing to give them. What was meant to be a bridge building evening already looked as if it was destined to end in disaster.
She sank to her knees in despair as she looked at the ruined piece of meat in front of her. She had no money to go and buy another joint from the butcher, and she would rather die than admit she could not feed her son and his wife, not when she had been the one to suggest this evening. She sat unmoving and unseeing for a while before leaping up and hefting her stock pot down. She had swede, carrots and other root vegetables in the garden. She could cut off the bits of meat that weren’t burnt and make a mutton stew. It may not be as fancy as the roasted joint she had planned, but it would be hot, hearty and taste just as good. Marielle Legacy had weathered many storms in her life, and she was not going to be defeated by a broken bottle jack and a burnt leg of mutton.