Pale pink, sugary sweetness dripped down her red-stained fingers onto the thick wooden cutting board. A tessellation of juice and white and black seeds were pushed to the side with the blade of a sharp knife. Long, green smiles with stretches of darker stripes rippling through fleshless slices were already neatly piled for the compost. Alouette scooped another bright red ball with a wooden spoon into a wooden bowl, trying to beat the temptation of just putting it into her mouth.
Another scoop. Another ball.
One more for her wouldn’t be too selfish, would it? She glanced at the half of watermelon that she had yet to use; a glistening, juicy red hill that awaited to be devoured. She took the knife and carefully cut off a chunk from a side that she had to turn her head to see. More juice dripped down her fingers, coalescing in the wrinkled curve of her palm. The crunch was satisfying, but her green eyes lit up from the taste. She wasn’t one to brag but she was the best watermelon picker in all of Astenvale Monastery, maybe in all of Espressa? She slurped the juice in her palm, licked up her wrist to capture a stray drop that thought it could slip away by sliding down to the crook of her elbow.
Refreshed in spite of the summer’s heat, Alouette could continue to carry out her task. There were others that would enjoy this treat just as much as her, and they deserved it, too. They had worked hard today, and yesterday, and the week before, getting rid of all the pests in the gardens. And though they went for a swim in the pond, Alouette knew they still felt the summer heat beating down on them.
Hoisting up the large wooden bowl, Alouette placed it aside and cleaned up her mess, washing both the cutting board, knife, spoon and her sticky hands. She dried her hands on her oversized tunic, collected the bowl and left the quiet kitchen that had settled an hour ago. She crossed across one path to come across another, using that to bring her down to the gardens.
She could hear them already, bossing one another around when she passed the library, windows alight with candlelight. When she made it to the gardens, she went to their favorite pond, pausing to appreciate their paddling. Well worn boots trampled over wild burr weed to not ruin the flowering bog bean. The ducks came to her immediately and she set down the bowl of watermelon at the edge. Alouette picked up one ball, held it in the palm of her hand and giggled as one of the female ducks nibbled at it.
It tickled and she was delighted by their sounds, their rustling wings and shaking of their round bodies. Her heart swelled as her smile grew under the twilight sky. Her people were right, it was always better to share.
Another scoop. Another ball.
One more for her wouldn’t be too selfish, would it? She glanced at the half of watermelon that she had yet to use; a glistening, juicy red hill that awaited to be devoured. She took the knife and carefully cut off a chunk from a side that she had to turn her head to see. More juice dripped down her fingers, coalescing in the wrinkled curve of her palm. The crunch was satisfying, but her green eyes lit up from the taste. She wasn’t one to brag but she was the best watermelon picker in all of Astenvale Monastery, maybe in all of Espressa? She slurped the juice in her palm, licked up her wrist to capture a stray drop that thought it could slip away by sliding down to the crook of her elbow.
Refreshed in spite of the summer’s heat, Alouette could continue to carry out her task. There were others that would enjoy this treat just as much as her, and they deserved it, too. They had worked hard today, and yesterday, and the week before, getting rid of all the pests in the gardens. And though they went for a swim in the pond, Alouette knew they still felt the summer heat beating down on them.
Hoisting up the large wooden bowl, Alouette placed it aside and cleaned up her mess, washing both the cutting board, knife, spoon and her sticky hands. She dried her hands on her oversized tunic, collected the bowl and left the quiet kitchen that had settled an hour ago. She crossed across one path to come across another, using that to bring her down to the gardens.
She could hear them already, bossing one another around when she passed the library, windows alight with candlelight. When she made it to the gardens, she went to their favorite pond, pausing to appreciate their paddling. Well worn boots trampled over wild burr weed to not ruin the flowering bog bean. The ducks came to her immediately and she set down the bowl of watermelon at the edge. Alouette picked up one ball, held it in the palm of her hand and giggled as one of the female ducks nibbled at it.
It tickled and she was delighted by their sounds, their rustling wings and shaking of their round bodies. Her heart swelled as her smile grew under the twilight sky. Her people were right, it was always better to share.
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