Still sleeping peacefully in the comfort of her flat pillow and flater blanket, unbothered by the random pieces of rustling that vibrated around her. Quiet murmurs paced about, making her pull her blanket up even higher to diminish the discomfort. But it fell short when her eyelids suddenly turned a soft yellow and a gust of air drove pass her face.
Chilling her warm nose and ears. And somehow turning the closed off whispers into harsh and filling voices that mildly assaulted her little eardrums.
At least the drifting scent of moist mud was a nice touch to her motion of waking up, a better contrast compared to the creaking of floorboards and banging of shoes.
Turning her body to better rise up, she pushed against the bed, sitting up as the blanket slowly slid off her grey pajamas.
Rubbing her face, a soft voice came over to her ears.
"Morning sleepyhead."
It was one of the other maids. A women already dressed in casual wear. Wearing a hearty smile which complimented her wrinkled blue eyes. Preparing to go back home to her family after 4 nights stuck in the vicinity of the mansion.
Same as the other who was at the door. Putting on her sleek shoes she ventured out, giving a quick, "See you later." Before exiting. Getting a simple reply of parting from the other, who was now also preparing to go.
"I'll see you later also Marie."
Giving another bright smile and then opening the door to leave. Marie catching another round of cold air, leaving her the last to exit her residence.
Groggily picking herself out the bed, walked the way to the only other room in the two-roomed building of her home. The bathroom. Squirting the toothpaste onto her brush, she began scrubbing. The light mint was a better compliment to her taste, not harsh but certainly there.
Cleaning off her face with a pink cloth she also got dressed. Going to her small wardrobe, picked up her neatly packed apron and dress; Getting ready for another day.
Birds chirping and the beating of their feathered wings accompanied her as she dressed. Chirping right ontop her house. Sliding on the last pump and tightening the band, for the third time today a brush of wind crept pass her as she thrust her hand against the door. Breeze blowing softly at her hair and fissling the wrinkles of her cloths. Bright sunlight masked her eyes, so bright her eyes squinted and closed repeated to adjust.
Taking a step back and leaning backwards to check the time. To the right, sitting securely at the centre of the wooden wall was a clock. Reading around seven fourthyfive if she saw correctly. A little later than normal but it's no biggie.
Making her way out under the cosiness of the sun, unfiltered rays rejuvenating her light skin, followed the trail of stone. Careful not to step on the battered mud which her feet would definitely sink into. Spots of twinkling green would appear sticking out, above the wet mud and littering of broken branches and lifeless flowers, upheaved from their roots. Causing quite the strangely pretty sight.
Sunshine reflecting of the water droplets, throwing out visions of bright tinge. Trees that can peacefully sway in the now calm breeze, leaves busy to absorb the sweet power of the sun. The vast scent of beaten grass was truly refreshing .
Even the wildly swinging lamp has relaxed. Drawing tiny circles as it floated round. Less hazardous and safe to swiftly walk pass. It's gem still glowing, although easily overpowered by the radiance of the sun, quite useless in this time of day.
Entering the main building of the property and towards the kitchen. It's time to make breakfast.
Cracking open the round edged fridge, picking out the ingredients: the sliced pork from two days ago, a red bell pepper along with two yellow coloured ones, and the bowl of mystery meat made by one of the other maids. Kept cold by the tiny gemstones lodged evenly around the inside, soon needing to be replaced. But that would be a job for another time.
Moving over to the stove, carrying everything in addition of 4 eggs and a loaf of fresh bread. Removing the circular plates of metal from the stove top with the help of a tough nickel stick, which helpfully has a curved extention at the end to hook under the plates. To allow entry of wood from above.
Retrieving the lumps of wood from one of the bottom cabinets and placing them inside, washed her hands thoroughly with the small pool of water in one of the sinks and went to light the fuel.
Picking up a costly tool from the back. A very simple lighter. A crude design of that similar to a cylindrical wand with nicks, and a strange outter casing which has started to peel off.
Applying the end against the dry hay she had also placed into the stove. Pressed the button on the side, a component to heat up the the gemstone at the end of the expensive stick.
After a few minutes, smoke leisurely poured out. Having started a fire she placed some sticks ontop and placed back the plates. A vibrant orange now flickering under. Washing her hands once more she began to chop up the the peppers after placing a ironcast pan ontop the flame. There were many pans, but this one was her favourite.
Safely, placing her finger tips inwards and pressing the knife on the connection between her middle phalanx and proximal phalanx. Begun to cut just as she was taught by the other maids. Slowly and steadily the knife glided up and down. Producing a nice batch of batonnet peppers.
The pan heated well, well prepared for the sprinkle of oil. Strips of bacon were deposited down.
Crackling and busting oil echoed throughout the kitchen, accompanied by the roaming scent of cooking bacon which tickled her nostrils pleasantly.
Grabbing the eggs, cracked all four into the almost comedically large pan. The eggs flowing to and touching the bacon.
Separating the eggs from and flipping the bacon, she applied a little more oil and began to scramble the eggs. But only after cutting off a small piece of an egg for herself with the oak solid turner. With the mixing of eggs done, she grabbed a thin stone plate for herself and then grabbed from a seperate holder, two silver plates with the engraving of a thin curving, squiggly line near the outter edge made of shining gold.
Holding the plates near the pan, scooped up 3 pieces of crispy, smoking bacon for each silver plate then 2 smaller ones onto hers.
Pork now resting cosily, a pinch of pepper and salt was spread over the scrambled eggs and her cute over-easy egg, also plated up.
A tad more oil was sprinkled and with the mystery meat, she rolled it up into three balls and flattened them out before placing it on the scorching pan. A pleasing sizzle resounded: Along with the bell peppers.
Whilst cooking, she brung over three cups next to the fridge. Reaching out for the freshly squeezed orange juice, pouring it into the two metal cups until it was positively full and some into her own wooden one which she diluted with some of the water she got from a drinking bucket in one of the cabinets.
For the final touch, two slices of fluffy bread for each silver plate and one for herself. The bread crumbling with crunches under the pressure of her hands as she sawed off chunks. Pieces of golden brown crust falling onto the cutting board as the blunt bread knife uncontrollably tore the bread.
And for the last element of her most important meal of the day. From the fridge she pulled out a half empty jar of some delicious pickled cucumber, brought with her own pay. It's captivating green glow and flavourful whiff as she opened the cap gave her a sense of fulfilment. Placing some on her plate with her fork, lightly poured the juices of her place. Spreading it in a zig-zag motion. Something yummy to satuate her bursts of cravings that's been happening for a while.
With breakfast fully prepared, scrapped the fagrant patties and earthy peppers into their place and carried the two shiny plates to the dinning room. The room bright with the daytime rays, illuminating the laminated floor boards and pristine walls. Bouncing off the many vases and sending a shine onto the multiple arts that filled the large white dinning room. Putting down the plates, went back to retrieve the beverages, holding the utensils in between her slender fingers.
Setting up the table, taps where incoming from the hallway. The closing patter made her slightly tense, growing a little stiff. From the hallway came the wife of her employer. Wearing a fiery red and black striped sundress and fitted with violent red heels.
Upon seeing the maid gave a glance of flaming disdain. Meeting eyes, Marie timidly looked down and drooped her head. Each tap of her heels sending a slight spark through Marie's body, although invisible and unshowable, it was definitely there.
Placing down the last spoon, Marie gave a meek bow to the fiery woman's direction and paced back towards the kitchen. Exposing her back, a comment behind came swinging. Although whispered, it was still audible to Marie's ears, most likely purposely so.
A harsh, "Dirty harp." Rolled off the woman's harsh tongue.
Pulling out a chair, sat down and leisurely picked up the knife and fork to the sides for the plate. It's inviting scent gratified her mouth and nose.
Back in the kitchen, Marie also picked up her own plate, utensils and cup. Bringing it with her to her house outside. A small table and chairs were usable to the back of the kitchen but she preferred the comfort of her very own home. Although less a home now after it was remodeled by the employer to a resting quarters for all maids. But she still enjoyed it no matter, giving her a sense of belonging.
Back on the stone trail, holding her food and drink close to her body, the warm breeze fluttered about, making the grass flutter and even the severed flowers flutter around. Enjoying the view, it seems like the gardener has arrived to the premises with his brown overalls and rolled up sleeves. His toolbox dangling on his wrist as his hands rested at the hips. A already jaded look washed his face as he stood surrounded by a messy mess. A busy next few days awaited for his royal self. Better begin picking she humoured.
Arriving at her chambers, plopped her cup down on a stool and sat on her bed. Pulling the three-legged stool closer and folding her pillow to lay on her lap, placed the plate ontop so it was closer to her face and began to eat away. Half her plated cucumbers went first down the hatch, next the bacon along with the glistening peppers. And lastly enjoyed in conjunction of the patty and bread with the ending of more pickled cucumber. Taking easy sips throughout.
Not quite fully finished with breakfast, pulled out from the last draw of her wardrobe a tiny sphere sweet. A chocolatey dessert costing a pretty penny.
Now satiated, cleaned up and walked back to the kitchen. Gardener now gone from sight. There were still many things to do, such as replacing the dirty water in the kitchen with a clean replacement, dusting and sweeping, preparing for lunch and dinner, more sweeping and dusting, maybe even a groceries trip. Make the bed and wash the all the unclean laundry, but first the dishes. Opening a sink, dropped her dishes into the water and went to get the others.
Chomping away at his peppers and stuffing his face with the last pieces of food on his face, wiping his face with a tissue.
Coming into the room, Marie almost halted her steps as she took a glance at the man sitting down. Currently feeling squeamish and a bit comfortable.
Upon seeing her face,
"ah, Marie, go to my office and get all my envelopes to the post."
Giving a toothy smile, pat both his knees and stood up.
Walking away with his face unseen, talked some more,
"Pack your things tonight and bring them to the the front doors at midnight today."
Apathetic in tone but Marie gave another meak nod, unsure as to why.
Presently left alone with the dishes, arranged them neatly ontop of one another to being to the sink. And begun to wash them cleanly with soap, scrubbing in a sawing motion down along the plates.
Forgetting her cup, wiped her hands dry and powered walked to the quarters. Grabbing the cup, she thankfully took a glance at the clock, ten past eight.
Causing her body to stop at place. Ah-oh, she would be cutting it close to the post if she didn't hurry. Trouble finding her if the letters are important, not daring to recieve another 'lesson'.
Rushing out, splashing her cup in the sink with a underhand throw that luckily landed where she wanted, hurried through the halls and up the stairs, gathered all the sealed envelopes and barged out the double front doors.
Blinded by the sun as it covered her way, tred on the moist pathway out onto the streets. Road and pavement damp from the freshly applied rain but also unimaginablely bestrewed with broken and scattered objects, basically enclosed in a field of trash. water trickling down from high altitudes. The splashes of droplets ringing throughout. Wind singing in her ears as she flew pass, unbothered by fellow pedestrians, also busy in their own right.
Embraced by the sultry atmosphere, beads of sweat steadily formed on her body. Coupled with the noisy bustling of activity around her, gave quite the uncomfortable stimulation to her. Never liking to be around people anyways, and this is way too many.
But this feeling was better than dealing with trouble. Early morning shops only now opening up for business, strangers chatting in the sunny hue, birds flapping overhead and the succulent scent of bakeries to fill your lungs. Many workers bending down to pick up the litter of the storm, most people were, all working together like a collective team. The amazing community of Kurterve always able to rely on each other when the tough gets going, all smiling and enjoying the progress together as one under the orange dot. Heat so piercing nearly all sleeves were pulled up pass the elbows, or higher if able. Even the respectable soldiers of Kurterve were assisting. Bending their spines to aid the common folk in their airy patrol uniforms. Loose linen tunics that reached below the pelvis and distinct wide trousers which tucked into their heavy boots, protected by pieces of hard padded garments - thick, tight layers of compressed fabric which clad the majority of their torso, arms and legs. All wearing Kurterve's signiture service cap where the citie's large sigil rested stably infront.
Cloths wrinkling with each swing of the arms and lift of the legs, running as best she could with puddles spattering under her falling shoes, still passed by another runner in light blue. careful to step over broken parts of people's homes and items. Finally, from the corner of her eye saw the destination of the bundle of letters, a big red postbox but unfortunately, the post man was walking away.
With his big red duffle bag growing increasingly further away and the handful of envelopes still ever so closer.
Mustering the courage, inhaled a cluster of breath and with tightened fists, shouted out.
"w-waiitt, Waaaiittt!"
Caught by his ears on the second try.
Triumphantly losing the letters, with redish pink ears made way back. Though stopping for a few seconds when a smell of sweetness waddled through her nostrils. A sweet shop was opening up but without any money in her pockets, she could only indulge through eyes and nose.