Outbreak
.
The whispers were becoming louder. The rumours were growing stronger. The deadly threat was virulently spreading northwards from the south, getting ever nearer.
At noon on the moor, by the large standing stone, we met; my love and I - a midway point between his hamlet and my town.
Held in his loving embrace, he spoke of a meeting.
Two days. That is how long the elders had given people. Decide whether to leave and head north while still fit and able, or stay put. Under the cover of darkness, the newest incomers, a wealthy family, had already packed up and left. Every other member of the tiny hamlet built on the only road through the peaks, felt it was their steadfast, unwavering duty to stop the danger in its tracks. Besides, they knew if they left, deciding to be selfish, many thousands more lives would be lost. Wherever they settled, the illness would catch up with them eventually.
Brushing my windswept hair from my mouth, he spoke of quarantine plans. From sunrise tomorrow, a village sacrifice. A cordon line circling around the hamlet would be drawn. There would be no access, until six months after the last death. They were farmers and self-sufficient, able to survive without outside contact for a couple of years.
He kissed me tenderly and told me he loved me, that he would always love me. We spoke of marriage, of children, of growing old together. Then with a strength I had never seen before, he bade me goodnight. Wiping away my tears, he firmly sent me away, back to my own town.
Throughout the next seven seasons the distant country air smelled of sickness and decay. My people, filled with immense gratitude for saving our town from death, gifted the hamlet with items the farmers couldn’t produce. The weekly provisions were left by the standing stone on the cordon line. During every single visit, as I journeyed, I hoped and prayed that I would see my love. I saw no one and nothing, other than the occasional coin left on the stone. We never allowed ourselves to touch the money, as no one knew how the illness spread.
One morning as the sun rose, in the eighth season, twenty seven tired, hungry and weary men, women and children walked into our village and told us it was over. They spoke of the hamlet’s death and destruction. It began just days after the quarantine. They were the survivors. Sadly, my love was not amongst them. He died in the fourth season.
I had lost him forever.
My heart was broken and my tears flowed.
Even now, as the many years have passed and old as I am, I love him as much, if not more, than I did then. I hope with all my being that the sacrifice of my love and of all the people of his hamlet will be remembered forever. Their bravery saved the people of the north by preventing the spread of the disease.
I give thanks for being alive today.
.
A fictional story
Based on a true event that took place in the village of Eyam in Derbyshire, UK.
In the 1660's the village chose to isolate itself after the Bubonic Plague was discovered there,
preventing the infection from spreading to the cities of Sheffield and Manchester.
.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is my entry for therealljidol
Week 14 - Firebreak
A firebreak is a gap that acts as a barrier to slow or stop the progress of a bushfire or wildfire.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The whispers were becoming louder. The rumours were growing stronger. The deadly threat was virulently spreading northwards from the south, getting ever nearer.
At noon on the moor, by the large standing stone, we met; my love and I - a midway point between his hamlet and my town.
Held in his loving embrace, he spoke of a meeting.
Two days. That is how long the elders had given people. Decide whether to leave and head north while still fit and able, or stay put. Under the cover of darkness, the newest incomers, a wealthy family, had already packed up and left. Every other member of the tiny hamlet built on the only road through the peaks, felt it was their steadfast, unwavering duty to stop the danger in its tracks. Besides, they knew if they left, deciding to be selfish, many thousands more lives would be lost. Wherever they settled, the illness would catch up with them eventually.
Brushing my windswept hair from my mouth, he spoke of quarantine plans. From sunrise tomorrow, a village sacrifice. A cordon line circling around the hamlet would be drawn. There would be no access, until six months after the last death. They were farmers and self-sufficient, able to survive without outside contact for a couple of years.
He kissed me tenderly and told me he loved me, that he would always love me. We spoke of marriage, of children, of growing old together. Then with a strength I had never seen before, he bade me goodnight. Wiping away my tears, he firmly sent me away, back to my own town.
Throughout the next seven seasons the distant country air smelled of sickness and decay. My people, filled with immense gratitude for saving our town from death, gifted the hamlet with items the farmers couldn’t produce. The weekly provisions were left by the standing stone on the cordon line. During every single visit, as I journeyed, I hoped and prayed that I would see my love. I saw no one and nothing, other than the occasional coin left on the stone. We never allowed ourselves to touch the money, as no one knew how the illness spread.
One morning as the sun rose, in the eighth season, twenty seven tired, hungry and weary men, women and children walked into our village and told us it was over. They spoke of the hamlet’s death and destruction. It began just days after the quarantine. They were the survivors. Sadly, my love was not amongst them. He died in the fourth season.
I had lost him forever.
My heart was broken and my tears flowed.
Even now, as the many years have passed and old as I am, I love him as much, if not more, than I did then. I hope with all my being that the sacrifice of my love and of all the people of his hamlet will be remembered forever. Their bravery saved the people of the north by preventing the spread of the disease.
I give thanks for being alive today.
.
A fictional story
Based on a true event that took place in the village of Eyam in Derbyshire, UK.
In the 1660's the village chose to isolate itself after the Bubonic Plague was discovered there,
preventing the infection from spreading to the cities of Sheffield and Manchester.
.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is my entry for therealljidol
Week 14 - Firebreak
A firebreak is a gap that acts as a barrier to slow or stop the progress of a bushfire or wildfire.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~