A New Working Stiffs story.
Title - What's cooking?
Genre- MFU
Rating - PG
Word count - 3119
My thanks to nursesparky for her beta help and to anyone who reads it. :DD Link takes you to AO3.
Time tumbled by without thinking about it. First, we lost Grandma, which was hard for me. She and I were real close. She taught me all she could and even left her books to me. Mom scoffed, but, to me, they were precious as gold.
The drink took Dad… finally. I stayed home to help Mom out, but my sister and brother scattered to the wind as soon as he was in the ground. I wished them success. Mom didn’t make the year out and pretty soon, it was just me in our old broken-down house. I did what I could to keep it airtight and not have too much wind come in in the winter or heat in the summer. Mostly, the days passed in an easy rhythm with Nature.
The town where I’d gone to school sort of dried up and blew away when the mill closed. The few folks left were like me, trapped by either circumstances or a deep love for the land. We nodded when we saw each other and sort of left it at that. And there I sat, year after year, season after season, while my reputation grew. Some called me a witch, others, a healer. Mostly, folks came when they needed help and I never turned no one away. And that was enough. Til one day…
Genre- MFU
Rating - PG
Word count - 3119
My thanks to nursesparky for her beta help and to anyone who reads it. :DD Link takes you to AO3.
Time tumbled by without thinking about it. First, we lost Grandma, which was hard for me. She and I were real close. She taught me all she could and even left her books to me. Mom scoffed, but, to me, they were precious as gold.
The drink took Dad… finally. I stayed home to help Mom out, but my sister and brother scattered to the wind as soon as he was in the ground. I wished them success. Mom didn’t make the year out and pretty soon, it was just me in our old broken-down house. I did what I could to keep it airtight and not have too much wind come in in the winter or heat in the summer. Mostly, the days passed in an easy rhythm with Nature.
The town where I’d gone to school sort of dried up and blew away when the mill closed. The few folks left were like me, trapped by either circumstances or a deep love for the land. We nodded when we saw each other and sort of left it at that. And there I sat, year after year, season after season, while my reputation grew. Some called me a witch, others, a healer. Mostly, folks came when they needed help and I never turned no one away. And that was enough. Til one day…