06-05-2024, 10:25 PM
(i can’’t be saved) reaching for the life I threw away
watching as it circles in the drain
An hour before sunset, the cabbit sludged through the shallows of the River of Life. With every step closer to the shore, Lucia’s paws took on more body weight, more strain. So, too, did the weight of the half-full net secured to a strap across her waist. Pebbles shifted below her paws and threatened to unbalance her.
Her teeth chattered. Water dripped from her whiskers. Her waterproof coat protected her from the worst of hypothermia, but she was not adapted to this cold climate. She’d grown up on a tropical island and while her mutations allowed her to thrive in the water, she couldn’t spend too much time in the frigid waters.
Lucia’s rear paws left the water. As she walked towards her home, she shook out each paw one by one. Her teeth still chattered. Her pawpads and nose had long since gone numb from the river’s chill. Now came the worst of the pinpricks of returning bloodflow.
By Requiem and Vayu (no, by Neandryne), Lucia wished the worst of her pain was the bloodflow returning to her nose. She sneezed. That jerk of the head flung the rest of the water off her coat.
She should be grateful. She was grateful. Yesterday, her abdomen had burned with agony both razor sharp and bone crushing. She hadn’t been able to leave her home, nevermind go for her morning swim. That had worried Monty. But failing to go for a swim this morning? That had alarmed him. She hated seeing him like that, hated knowing she caused those feelings in him. Gods (no, God), why couldn’t her body let her live?
Lucia continued walking. The net containing freshwater clams and mussels dragged behind her.
Now she was out of the river, the dull agony in her abdomen returned. Bloodflow? Or the cold soothed the inflammation? She bit her lip, but kept walking.
Right before the meeting, Monty had given her medicine for the pain. She’d taken half. Maybe if she’d taken the full dose, she would have a full net of food for everyone. But, no, pain wasn’t reasonable like that. A full dose today? She’d take a full dose the next time the pain climbed this high. How long until she needed such a dose that it clouded her mind, prevented her from swimming? The pain had started as nothing more than an increase of menstruation agony. Was yesterday her new maximum pain day? Or was yesterday going to be the new normal in six months? Was this pain noise to overcome or a signal of her impending death?
Lucia focused on the crunching snow beneath her paws. The texture of the cold against her complaining paw pads. The smell of the sharp cold signaling tomorrow would be frigid.
Monty would be waiting for her. If the pain returned tomorrow, he’d be there to help. If the pain wasn’t there? Nobody would be happier than him—not even her—and, by Requiem’s grace and Vayu’s mercy, he would be happy because she wasn’t in pain.
Everyone else, Lucia thought, considered her pain days an inconvenience to their dinner plans.