13
Apr
My longest piece of flash fiction yet, this one continues my happy theme of recent days. I’m not sure about the ending. I kept feeling like I should write another paragraph, but at the same time, the current spot is where I wanted to end it. I’m not sure which idea is better, but this post is without any extra material on the end. Let me know what you think.
A single drop of rain fell that day. It left a large dark spot on the broken earth, and the greedy land sucked it away in an instant, and soon it was if the drop had never fallen. The land got back to its primary business of drying, cracking, and breaking apart, and the farmers got back to theirs, of bemoaning the weather. There would be no crops, not this year, and should the earth remain barren for a few more months, there would be no city, either. Men, women, and children fled after rumours, chasing down the notion of crops, of food. They hung their lives on the words of charlatans, and many starved. But soon, even the charlatans began to starve, for words may feed the mind, but they do not nourish the body.
In the desperation, citizens disappeared, only to be found gnawed upon. As food vanished entirely, this became open, and groups of the strong would rove the city, hunting down others as their dinner. Friend ate friend and family ate family, and even rats and cockroaches died away, for they had become delicacies for the collapsing society. Outside the city walls, a few farmers remained, old men who had nowhere to go, and no family to protect. They still met each day in the village tavern, talking through the old stories one more time. The bartender had long fled, and there was nothing to drink, and yet the old habits refused to die, for these farmers had seen many a bad year, and they were determined to ride this one out, just as they had all the others.
As days went by and easy pickings in the city became scarce, gangs began hunting food outside the city walls, questing after farmers, but the old men knew the lay of the land far better than the cityfolk who chased them, escaping with ease from the angry starving packs. This pushed the populace of the city over the edge into true desperation, and in a night of orgy and bloodshed, all but a few were killed, and those remaining gorged themselves on the flesh of the fallen.
The farmers shook their head at this ill considered behaviour. They had devised their own method of making it through the long famine – whenever the farmers became truly starved and nearly stumbling with hunger, they slew the oldest among them. Before his death, the chosen one could bequeath his belongings, and in this way ancient steadings were absorbed into one another, until only two were left.
These two men were young men, barely starting out in the farming trade, and had known one another from near the day of their birth, and so when the time came, the elder of the two shook his head and handed his farms over to his friend, and was then slain and eaten. Summer had long since passed, and autumn was even now beginning the gradual decent into winter, and the last farmer had no more source of food. He sat in the bar of the village tavern, and told stories to himself, making them up as he went along. Hunger stole away his strength for speech, and so he sat there, waiting for his death.
One day, the sun darkened, and a strange pat pat pat noise came through the open door of the tavern. Nothing more than a skeleton now, the young farmer crawled his way from the bar to the door, and looked outwards. It took him a long while to discern the source of the sound, but then he remembered: rain! Rain had come again to bless the land and the crops, and the earth drank and drank, its thirst unquenchable after many, many months of desiccation. The farmer cracked his parched lips and cried out in thanks, that he had lived until the rains came again. The prayer consumed the very last of his energy, and his form slumped there against the frame of the door, deceased.
Comments
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Newt on 04.13.2010
I really liked the very first sentence. It sucked me in. The sound of the rain falling at the end of the drought just as the last man died, was not something I had expected. Very nice short story, I enjoyed it.
Newt
The Four Part Land on 04.13.2010
The first sentence just popped into my head when I sat at the desk. I don’t plan these at all, just put on some music that seems appropriate (in this case, Tiamat), and start typing.
The ending seemed particularly appropriate. Originally, I was thinking of having a few of the farmers survive and start farming again when the rain came down, but I like how it turned out better with the last of them dying as the rain once again falls from the sky.
Not sure what kind of deeper meaning that’s supposed to convey, if any, but I do like the symmetry.
PJ Kaiser on 11.11.2010
I enjoyed this story, James … and i think the ending is appropriate … if they simply picked up their farming again then it wouldn’t have the same punch as your current ending.
mazzz in Leeds on 12.17.2010
I think you went for the correct option for the ending. Stopping there is certainly poignant.
The farmers hanging out in the bartender- and booze-free bar was a great detail.
Sam Adamson on 12.17.2010
Yes, stopping where you did is the way to go IMHO. There’s a futility to this story I really enjoyed, I couldn’t help thinking if, somewhere in the back of his mind, the last farmer was wondering, just for a second, whether he could stay alive till the next crops came in.
Maria Kelly on 12.17.2010
This is very good. I love the ending, like the others I think it’s the appropriate one: tragic and ironic.
Seleste deLaney on 12.17.2010
Definitely the right ending. These first two lines:
A single drop of rain fell that day. It left a large dark spot on the broken earth, and the greedy land sucked it away in an instant, and soon it was if the drop had never fallen.
Sucked me in right away and there was no turning back, even though I knew the end would be tragic.
Very nicely done 🙂
Steve Green on 12.18.2010
I think the concept here is brilliant James, the story skillfully details the spiral down into harsher and harsher times, and the final death as the rain starts works perfectly.
Icy Sedgwick on 12.18.2010
I like this, but I’m still concerned for the farmer – he’s somehow got to work out how to survive until his crops grow!
jim bronyaur on 12.18.2010
I enjoyed this… one word came to mind after reading this: hope.
That’s all we need… even if we die with it.
Jim Bronyaur
http://tinyurl.com/jimbronyaur-theburiedhouse <– my #fridayflash this week!
The Four Part Land on 12.18.2010
@PJ Yup, I didn’t think the story could go back to being the way it was. That wouldn’t have enough drama, and would be a letdown for the end.
@Mazz It just seemed the exact kind of place where they would go. The world is drying out, but the routine of the old men wasn’t going to stop for something as silly as that.
@Sam I think that was part of the idea behind this, that they were stringing themselves along hoping that at least one of them would make it to the wet. Otherwise I can’t see why they’d go to all the fuss of transferring the land planning things out.
@Maria Dying as the rain came down just seemed to fit, that hours from salvation, it’s all hour.
@Seleste Thanks. That particular line is one of my favorites. Captured everything I wanted right away.
@Steve The downward spiral was really the only way I could see the story coming to a resolution, that it had to get worse and worse until it finally was over.
@Icy I think he’s a bit dead to be worrying about that now.
@Jim I sometimes write from the (Greek? Can’t remember) view that hope is a punishment inflicted upon mankind to keep them working in futile and pointless challenges far longer than they should. In some ways I wonder if that was the case here, that they would have been happier dying all at once, as in On The Beach.
Laurita on 12.19.2010
Excellent way to start, excellent way to finish. And the middle was quite captivating as well.
Ganymeder on 12.19.2010
I’m a sucker for a tragedy, so I thought the ending was perfect.
Adam Byatt on 12.22.2010
Living in a land of drought, I can relate to that sense of desperation. Fantastic opening lines and great image to close with.
Adam B @revhappiness
Rebecca Emin on 12.23.2010
I thought this was really well written and that the ending fitted perfectly. I also think you did right to stop where you did. Well done.