swift were her steps across the hay-stricken grass, the dewy morning air coating lungs with revival, the blue skies sweeping aching bones with little gaiety. her woven basket was nestled in the crook of her arm as she wandered; her stepmother was to have company over later, and thus eggs had to be collected to prepare earlier. ❝ good morning, mia, ❞ she greeted warmly, nearly like always, as if nothing in the world was wrong. indeed, TODAY was a happier one, God giving her courage to face it after weeks of pain. she had not forgotten the truth, that she had no mother or father any longer. but there were friends at least for her, and she clung to that good fortunate while it lasted. she knew her stepmother was already talking of dismissing the servants, though she prayed it would not come to that.
she was waiting patiently first for mia to finish when her question came. here. yes, perhaps ella was not living as she ought. but … helping everyone around the house was really not so terrible a burden. and she had promised her father to treat her stepfamily well. for a few sore shoulders … it wasn’t too difficult. she told herself, at least. mia, who had known her since she was a tiny elf in silks and ribbons, knew better. ❝ well, i suppose chickens need to be fed in order to lay eggs, ❞ she answered first, jesting – but there was something else in her voice, some hesitance, some dread of her rose-colored glass being torn away from her eyes. nothing could be avoided with mia, however, so ella relented a bit, nerves recoiling. ❝ what do you mean ? ❞
A MILD LAUGHTER potent enough to recognize such naive discuss that ella always held. after all, the youthful, blonde daughter of the household had not a lick of negativity in her body. instead, she viewed the world with bright colors to sway positivity and light much something mia wished everyone had. but even mia herself was shrugging shoulders constantly and shying away from a colorful ladder, and instead, seeing the world in grey, black and white. in some ways, actually in most ways, mia had thanked those above for the fortunate friend she acquired in ella and her mistakingly overlooking nature.
❝ oh my dear friend, you must know what i mean. this place under the reigns of someone that isn’t your father. god bless his soul. ❞
mia continued her tedious job of maintaining habits for the chicklings, in order for the latter of the company to eat. the step-daughers and mother of ella were seemingly as far away from starving as you could get, but it seemed the stream of delightful cooking never-ended, while the servants that sweat their brow to deliver quality meals got leftover shanks of meat and the smallest of eggs, uncooked and undesirable.
amandla
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