The men’s life was easy. As the drugs wore off their women were beside them to satisfy any need that may arise. During the day when their women were at the gardens, they wandered aimlessly, cursing the missionaries. What the hell were they supposed to do? They should have been fighting wars. In the evening, after their women fed them they went to the men’s meeting place. They should have been plotting revenge or feasting their win. Instead, drugs dulled their acute sense of loss. The only thing that hadn’t changed was their women still brought in the harvest.
In response to Charli’s prompt where she asks:
September 21, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about what it is to gather a harvest. You can use the phrase or show what it means without using the words. Go where the prompt leads.
Respond by September 26, 2017 to be included in the compilation (published September 27). Rules are here. All writers are welcome!
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About Irene Waters 19 Writer Memoirist
I began my working career as a reluctant potato peeler whilst waiting to commence my training as a student nurse. On completion I worked mainly in intensive care/coronary care; finishing my hospital career as clinical nurse educator in intensive care. A life changing period as a resort owner/manager on the island of Tanna in Vanuatu was followed by recovery time as a farmer at Bucca Wauka. Having discovered I was no farmer and vowing never again to own an animal bigger than myself I took on the Barrington General Store. Here we also ran a five star restaurant. Working the shop of a day 7am - 6pm followed by the restaurant until late was surprisingly more stressful than Tanna. On the sale we decided to retire and renovate our house with the help of a builder friend. Now believing we knew everything about building we set to constructing our own house. Just finished a coal mine decided to set up in our backyard. Definitely time to retire we moved to Queensland. I had been writing a manuscript for some time. In the desire to complete this I enrolled in a post grad certificate in creative Industries which I completed 2013. I followed this by doing a Master of Arts by research graduating in 2017. Now I live to write and write to live.
A more nuanced story than one might realize. I think I know what inspired this story. A very sad commentary on cultures that can’t adapt, for so many reasons. I guess not much has improved for anyone.
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You definitely know what inspired this story. Thinking about it later I wonder if our own culture is not so very different and that is sad.
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I found this to be a really fascinating read, Irene. Great use of the prompt.
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I can see that pertaining to many Native Peoples of any number of countries.
One can only hope that they can adapt…
(PS good luck in your new place. Enjoy that harvest!)
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Thanks Jules.
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Sad tale, but really terrific use of the prompt.
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Thanks Lisa.
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What a tragic story, Irene. Sadly true for many. How terrible to be cast adrift from your heritage. Great writing.
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Thanks Norah. It is sadly true for many places but time and education will change that and forward progression can’t be halted. Or perhaps eventually the people say enough is enough. Time will tell that also.
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I hope that not too much time and lots of education work their miracles soon.
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