The smell of wet earth.  It used to comfort me, this pungent odor.  As I
stand here, eyes closed, arms hanging limply at my sides, that one scent fills
my senses.  Just a few short months before, I would greet this s
mell every morning as I walked out into my orchard, the trees glistening with
dew, and that earthy fragrance raising from the freshly-turned ground.  But
that seems lifetimes away now...
     I'm a simple enough man, with the misfortune of being born into a minor
house of nobles.  I filled my days, though, tending to the plants I loved, as
I had no other real responsibilities outside a few occasional appearances to
the people that lived in the area, under our protection.  Sure, I had to learn
the ways of using a sword just like every other male child in the family, but
I was happy enough to leave such posturing to my elder siblings.  I know that
my father was disappointed in me, wanting to live the simple life of a
farmer...but I didn't care.  I felt a connection to the green and living
things that I could never feel with a hunk of cold metal.  I was married to a
young strap of a girl from another family..  More politcal than anything, but
a small price to pay for my father to leave me be with my farm.  However, we
grew to love each other; from her, I learned some of the finer things in life,
and she gained my love of the earth.
     In due course we had a child..a lovely little daughter.  How she would
love to help her mommy and daddy in the garden..  I remember she especially
liked growing carrots, how the brown earth hid the bright orange of the root.
It was like magic to her.  She'd get dirty and her mom would lecture her...but
she was never really mad.  We were very happy, in those days...
     One day, though, I got word from my father..  A war was raging in the
land, and it was near our lands.  He said I shouldn't have to worry, that his
troops should be able to handle any of the enemy that would head this way.
Nevertheless, he cautioned, I should make sure my armor and sword were in good
repair.  I blew off his advice; what would an invading army want with a little
house off in the woods, with a little garden that just barely produced enough
for those that lived there, and a small orchard?  And it's not as if we stood
in the path of any great objective.  It took a good half-day's ride from the
nearest village to reach our little farm.
     I was awakened about an hour ago to the rumble of thunder, 
and the crash of lightning.  I was disoriented at first..  My wife was 
not by my side..  Then I heard the laughter...a harsh, barking 
sound.  I swear, it didn't even sound human.
     I ran outside.  A peal of thunder and a clap of lightning 
punctuated the scene that assailed my senses..  My wife and 
daughter, lying still in the middle of a loose ring of foreigners..  
Foreigners in the livery of the invading state.  Foreigners with 
blades drawn, laughing and pointing at the bodies of my loved 
ones..  I grabbed my blade from its place above the hearth and 
charged them, all reason having fled my mind.
     I don't remember what happened next.  I must have fought them 
off, as I see none of them here now.  None left standing, at least.  
The thunder has lessened, though, and a hard rain is falling.  As I 
kneel here, next to my wife and my child, sword plunged deep into 
the earth before me, I can feel my strength fading.  I cover their 
faces with my shirt as I painfully lay myself down next to them.  I 
know that no-one will make it here in time to help me, but I am 
happy to stay here, with my family, with the land that I loved..  I will 
stay here, with the smell of wet earth filling my nostrils 
forevermore...



The Sunburst Project, Week 10
http://www.chaoseed.com/btr/sbp/
6/3/00