I hate this place.
I walked into one of those dimly lit places in the park. I stood quietly, waiting for my twolegs eyesight to adjust. A woman stomped up to me and pointed at my feet and legs. She smelled of indignation.
“Get out! You cannot come in here without shoes and you must have something on your legs as well.”
I blinked at her. She frowned and pointed at the door. I shifted to feral, clothed in fur. She screamed.
“No ANIMALS in here either!”
I stealthed, feeling an emotion I did not really recognize. It was an awful, self defeating feeling. Totally useless. I surely do not need to fight with my OWN heart or head! So I shrugged it off never to look at it again.
I went away and dug through what little I had in my packs. I had a vivid pink dress that someone had cast aside in a bush. The material was good. No sense in letting it rot on the ground. I also found a scarf of similar color. This covered my hair completely. I put my boots on. Gloves on.Bracers on.I went back to the dark room.
She was standing there near the entryway. She laughed derisively and said to a woman standing nearby,“Could you get any MORE pink?”They laughed and pointed. I turned around. No one else was there. They were laughing at me. Because I put on boots and covered my legs as requested?
Rules. Unwritten rules.
She let me in.I sat down. Others were there. The odor of sweat mingled with blood, the scent of flowers (odd, I didn’t see any flowers) and an overpowering smell of rotten fruit. I watched as a man was pouring this smelly thinned out rotten fruit juice into a woman. She let him! He saw me watching. He raised the mug over his head and winked. Then he drank. So. Not poison.
I arose from my seat. As I walked toward the counter built along the back of the room, I had to step around a person who was half on his chair and half on the floor. Thinking he was ill, I leaned in to look more closely at his face. Vacant eyes. He was short like Nanaive. He belched and I felt the wind of it on my face. Sweet and sour scent. One of his eyes found mine and he grinned.“Ach! Oolmost as good tha second time in me mouf, ‘twas!”His voice was like listening to a saw against a rock.
I flinched. HE GRABBED ME! (Later, as he was wrapping his shredded hand in bandages I heard him tell someone he slipped while playing with his blade.)I went outside where the smell and noise is diluted by, well, by other noises and other smells. I just stood there against a tree. I caressed the bark and pressed my face against it glad to be out. What would those tears accomplish? I stopped.I hate this place.Unkindness.(Eliment)