FIC: OUAT: A Heavy Weight (1/5, G)
Title: A Heavy Weight (1/5)
Prompt: Pregnancy (for onceuponaland
Wordcount: 239
Rating: G
Summary: Five women contemplate the fate of their children giving the grim future that waits for them.
For lunch there is stale bread, a little dried meat and the last of the season’s apples. There might be enough to stretch to the evening meal, but Ruth isn’t sure - certainly there will not be enough for tomorrow’s breakfast. Her husband should make a little money selling the wool, which will buy flour; the hens have just started laying again, so they will have eggs; the first of the winter vegetables will be ready to harvest in the few days. But it will still be meagre, not quite enough to stratify the grumble of an empty stomach, not when so many nutrients go the rapidly growing child.
Ruth nibbles on a crust of bread, trying not to let her lip curl at the taste. The baby stirs within her and she shifts uncomfortably in her seat. She is already so big, so much bigger than she can remember any of the village women looking at the same stage. The midwife has said maybe twins, but Ruth isn’t sure they can feed even one tiny mouth, let alone two.
As she finishes the last of her meal, she allows her head to drop in despair, but the thump of heavy footsteps outside the door alerts her to the approach of her husband moments before he enters for his own lunch. She meets his eyes and attempts a welcoming smile, but only sees his tight grimace reflected back at her.
Prompt: Pregnancy (for onceuponaland
Wordcount: 239
Rating: G
Summary: Five women contemplate the fate of their children giving the grim future that waits for them.
For lunch there is stale bread, a little dried meat and the last of the season’s apples. There might be enough to stretch to the evening meal, but Ruth isn’t sure - certainly there will not be enough for tomorrow’s breakfast. Her husband should make a little money selling the wool, which will buy flour; the hens have just started laying again, so they will have eggs; the first of the winter vegetables will be ready to harvest in the few days. But it will still be meagre, not quite enough to stratify the grumble of an empty stomach, not when so many nutrients go the rapidly growing child.
Ruth nibbles on a crust of bread, trying not to let her lip curl at the taste. The baby stirs within her and she shifts uncomfortably in her seat. She is already so big, so much bigger than she can remember any of the village women looking at the same stage. The midwife has said maybe twins, but Ruth isn’t sure they can feed even one tiny mouth, let alone two.
As she finishes the last of her meal, she allows her head to drop in despair, but the thump of heavy footsteps outside the door alerts her to the approach of her husband moments before he enters for his own lunch. She meets his eyes and attempts a welcoming smile, but only sees his tight grimace reflected back at her.