Twelve Years Later
We live in a small, four-sided stone home with a couch, three bedrooms, and a kitchen that’s never been touched. Food is not something commoners like us waste our time with, but as huntsmen we take pride in killing it. Our doll-sized castle, as dad calls it, is a cookie-cutter replica of every other stone-built home in Huntsman Square. Nevertheless, I shouldn’t be complaining. Our cottage is one of five with the addition of a third bedroom and a kitchen. This luxury is purely because of dad’s rank as an Alpha hunter, but they don’t pay us anymore than a Beta or a Gamma, so who cares?
I peak out the window of my bedroom to gaze at miles of clover-green flat land and a few dusty mountains in the distance. It could have been a beautiful picture, in another world.
Regardless of its isolation, I’m fond of our little corner of the compound. The South Gate is our backyard. It uncovers the woods where we hunt, and allows us the luxury of crisp, clean air. Still, I wonder if that’s such a good thing. It’s mind numbing to be away from it all.
I let out a sigh that fogs the glass. I mop the white circle with my elbow and fall back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
I only visited the inner city once, and that was a long time ago. It was filled with mammoth sized buildings and streets made of metal. There were highways that traveled over your head and shook the ground under your feet. It was much different from our little hunting village on the border, but this is where we must live. Those who are rich enough live in the center of Abdo, while the rest of us, the majority of us, live in the surrounding communities.
I lose my train of thought.
I hope this snippet is as good as the others, because I received a surprising amount of positive feedback from the first three. Let me know if I’ve fallen short, or if I hit the nail on the head. Both negative and positive feedback appreciated!