Typical

Having trouble doing my challenge stuff because I found a subreddit of trans people asking for suggestions on how to better pass as their chosen gender. Can’t stop telling people how pretty they are. Just 5 more. then I’ll start.

Day 3: Write a story that predates 1950.

“Harold?”

Harold closed his eyes, steadied his hands, and deeply inhaled that odd metallic and oil smell that permeated the factory air.

“Harold, can I speak to you for a moment?”

Harold opened his eyes and glanced up the conveyor belt toward Donald, and down the conveyor belt toward Percy. He sat up straight and glanced at the factory wall.

“Of course, Mr. Clark.”

Harold grabbed a dirty oil rag as he stood. He tried to smudge the grease off of his hands as he walked from the assembly line, trailing Mr. Clark to his office. He found a clean, or relatively clean, section of the rag and wiped the sweat out of his face. He stuffed the rag into a pocket as he entered Mr. Clark’s office. Harold paused in the doorway, as Mr. Clark took his seat.

“Please, Harold, sit down.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Harold, you know what this is about, don’t you son?”

As Harold held Mr. Clark’s gaze, he couldn’t help but notice how weary Mr. Clark had come to look. Harold noted that Mr. Clark must have been around his father’s age, an age where a good night’s rest and a smile might make a man look thirty, but one bad day, and every worry painted a man’s age across his face. Mr. Clark’s stresses had become deeply engrained into his furrowed brow, his pursed lips, the crinkled skin surrounding his eyes. But for now, Mr. Clark’s face was soft. Sympathetic.

“Yes, sir. I appreciate you keeping me on as long as you did.”

Harold reached for Mr. Clark’s hand as he stood, taking his final walk back to his small locker, as many had before him in the preceding weeks. He washed his hands with the bright orange, grainy bar, the only thing that really gets the oil off, and looked over the floor. He counted the children among the other line workers, and said a silent prayer for their families. He replaced his coveralls with a proper shirt and folded them neatly to put in his lunch bag. He grabbed his hat off the hook, and began the slow walk home, to his mother who would be starting dinner with the same ham bones and beans they’d had every other night this week, and to his father who would fall asleep before dinner was ready, but claim he was just resting his eyes if someone were to suggest he go to bed.

Day 2: Write a fanfiction

I’ll be honest, I’m not a fan of anything, and I don’t like writing unoriginal content. These things will show in the following entry, a Pokemon fanfiction that pre-dates pokemon training or really any understanding of pokemon at all. Cool. I’m not insanely happy with it, but I figured that’s why this is a challenge ;)

Entry 12

We have quickly realized that many of the monsters in the forest were actually quite uninterested in us, as long as they don’t feel threatened. One of the men got too close to one of the beasts, a large purple creature, that ended up being venomous. Luckily, the doctor’s anti-venom was effective enough to keep the man from dying, but we did end up leaving him behind at a trading post we came across. We sent word back to town for him to be retrieved. We’ve been careful since then, but the forest only gets denser as we make our way to the coast, and we’ve had some close calls, requiring the killing of more animals than I am comfortable with.

The trading post was a nice break from the monotony of the trees, and it also served to reassure us that we were on the right path. The man there was very interesting, though. I suppose spending long amounts of time by yourself in the middle of a forest crawling with beasts will do that to a person. He had one of the beasts in his shop, actually. He had apparently domesticated it, or at least relatively speaking he had, as the beast seemed to tolerate his company. It had an aggressive response to our arrival, that was seemingly placated when the owner gave a tug to the animal’s whiskers. The beast was approximately a meter in height. It was elegant in its way, far more so than any of the beasts we had slaughtered so far, confident in its movements. I have not noticed one of these animals in the forest, but another animal which it may have been a relative to, as they have similar coloring and shape. The shop owner made no comment on it when asked. While we were arranging the transport of he wounded man, the beast disappeared for a stretch of time. It returned with another of the forest monsters, a much smaller animal, dead in its mouth. We left before seeing it destroy its lunch.

Soon, I think we will be at the old port city of Vermilion  Maybe after another night. It will be nice to at least feel safe for night, but hopefully there will be lodging available. It has been too long since any of us have indoors, guarded from the elements and the beasts. In Vermilion  we will probably pick up fishing equipment, as our food stores are getting low, and it is still unclear to our party which beasts are poisonous and which are acceptable for consumption. We will ask about fish in Vermillion.