i'm posting clock of fate's first chapter now. if you haven't read my earlier clock of fate post, i suggest you read that one first. it'll be easier to understand this then.
enjoy!
also, please add comments. i like it when other people like it.
Chapter 1
Abigail stretched and
woke. Her tiny cot, set in a fairly
spider-free corner, was the whole of her room, and her only belongings in a
corner. Sheila, the farm cat, saw
Abigail was awake and came over expecting petting.
“No, not now, Sheila,” said Abigail. “I need to milk the cows and collect the eggs.
Then I’ll be back.”
Sheila made a halfhearted mew, and then went back over to a
sunny spot to nap.
Abigail hurried to the barn door, immediately running out to
the house. She called a quick hello,
grabbed a couple milk pails and nearly got out the door. Suddenly she remembered the egg basket and got
it. She nearly got back out again when
Sheldon, her adoptive brother, appeared blocking the way.
See, Abigail was adopted. You may have heard about her clock, and how
her mother died, and that her father died before her birth. The midwife who had helped birth her lived on
a farm with her family. She immediately
took the orphaned child in.
Sheldon was the oldest of four children, not including
Abigail. The twins, Cornelia and
Cornelius, were five, and Emily was thirteen and acted superior to Abigail and
the twins. Sheldon was fourteen, and eleven-year-old Abigail was his best
friend.
“Hello, Abigail,” said Sheldon.
Abigail replied, “Hello! I’m off to milk the cow and collect the
chickens’ eggs. Are you coming too?”
“I need to clean the barn. Mother thinks your bed is getting too spider
webby. I think you would know best,
since it’s your bed.” Abigail walked to the barn.
“I’m
fine, but whatever Mother wants. She
fusses about tidying things. Though as a
midwife, I thought she would be used to messy things. And she’s got five children. I’m not
complaining, though, because I’ve now got a clean space to live in.”
Abigail
checked her clock. The twins, who were
passing, looked at her strangely. She
ducked out of the barn, whacked her head on the doorframe, and stumbled over to
Sheldon. He was doubled up with
laughter.
They
set off to the henhouse. A plump,
brown-feathered hen clucked at them from her perch. Abigail stuck her hand in, and the hen nipped
at it in a friendly way, looking for food. Sheldon scattered corn inside the
henhouse, and the hens pecked happily.
Abigail
found only two eggs in the nesting boxes. She sighed, signaled to Sheldon, and they set
off for the barn once more to milk the cow. The cow woke late, so they played with Sheila.
The cow woke when Sheila’s paw hit her
hoof, so Abigail got up to milk her while Sheldon entertained Sheila.
Abigail
could only collect half a pail of milk from the cow. Sighing, she set it on the
floor, with the egg basket. Suddenly,
Sheila darted after a large rat, spilling both milk and eggs.
“There’s
no use crying over spilled milk and eggs,” said Sheldon, but Abigail detected a
note of disappointment: their family couldn’t survive on this meager amount of
food. They depended on the dairy.
They
went inside for iced drinks. They found
that a conversation was taking place in the kitchen: a wedding was nearby.
They
decided, for a wedding gift, they would visit the clockmaker. They would buy a cuckoo clock for the new
couple.
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That
evening, Abigail was getting into her pajamas. Her chest was still uncovered when she heard
footsteps. It was dark. Night air poured into the barn as the door
opened. Suddenly, Sheldon stepped in.
“Sheldon,
don’t look. I’m-” But she never finished. Sheldon had seen the glint of
moonlight reflecting on the clock.
“Abigail,
is that a clock?”
There
was no hiding anymore. She told him the
entire story, made him promise not to tell anyone, and showed him the odd gold
timepiece in her chest.
