I woke up back in my own bed, after a long week of attending boring meetings, as well as attending to Morris' lively physical needs. I felt renewed in some way or form, taking the Sunday we returned from Downtown Zuzu City, as a day of total rehabilitation. Advil, cigarettes, and cheap wine, was all that I had needed to loosen up.
Sitting on the concrete balcony of my clean, new, apartment was what my dreams were made of. I sat, feeling the breeze on my skin, feeling it whip my hair happily past my face. I smiled, taking a long drawl on my cigarette.
It was in my nature to be contemplative. That was what my grandfather always told me, laughing as I would line up a large snowball on the top of the hill, pushing it so it would hit Robin's backdoor perfectly, locking her into her own house.
My grandpa said a lot of things about me. About my character, and about how I acted. He loved analyzing every piece of my soul, placing every fact about me carefully on his table, none of them touching each other, so he could study them independently. He didn't say anything bad about me, just stated objective facts.
'She always puts her left sock on before her right,' he would say. 'She only eats chocolate ice cream with orange juice,' he would mention. He always brought up things that I had never considered before, considering he saw me as a deep thinker. My mom was always embarrassed by his ramblings. Always embarrassed by the mention of me.
"My granddaughter wants to go to college!" I remember him yelling to my mother one morning.
"For a marketing degree?" My mother yelled back. "The farm is her life, it was what she was born into. I know that my husband– your son– had expected her to live out her life on this farm, and keep the valley away from city life! How can she do that, when all she wants is to be in the city?"
"This place was your house as well! You could have kept her here, so she could learn the ways of the valley! You didn't, however, you just moved in with that city boy, right after my son's death!"
The arguing continued on and on, my tears doing nothing for me besides dehydrating me. I haven't remembered crying since.
—————
A melodic alarm in my living room opened my eyes. I turned around to see the bright red dial, my phone shaking from side to side. Agitated, I stood up, bothered by my capsized afternoon. It only took three steps to reach it."Hello? Who am I speaking to?" I answered using my pleasant voice.
"Say, Farmer girl, I'm surprised you couldn't guess," the resonant voice boomed.
"Oh," I was suddenly glad that I had answered using my charming voice. "Hi, Morris."
"That's all you have to say?" He asked precariously.
"Why use words when we've already done so much together," I mused to myself. "There's only so many places words can take you,"
Morris laughed. "Do you have any for me, Farmer girl?"
"What, you mean like saying something over the phone? Something that makes you want me more than you already do?"
"Yes, exactly like that," he purred. "About what you're going to do to me once you see me again,"
My eyes rolled in their sockets. I swear I saw my brain.
"You're a little out of your league, Morris. I don't do things over the phone."
He sighed.
"Why don't you just come over tonight? My walls are pretty thick," I asked.
"No, I can't do nights. My apartment has a strict curfew."
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Muddy Relations (Stardew Valley Fanfiction)
FanfictionAfter four years of owning their dead Grandfather's farm and no love life in sight, the farmer is reluctant to teach Clint how to make Emily notice him. However, the Farmer is finds herself entangled in a relationship that she never expected herself...