thirty one

v. overalls and kisses pt. 1

v. write a scene that takes place on a farm

overalls and kisses

as i step out onto the backyard the sun suddenly washes over me, beads of sweat appearing instantaneously. Wiping the sheet of liquid off with the back of my hand I head down to the wooden structure that rest behind my house. the color blue hides away the once hideous wood that made up the building, white identifying the doorway with rectangular wood pieces making a large X. Every time my eyes fall on it I can't help but think of the X marking a spot on a map. vibrant grass encompasses the landscape. on the the far left of the farm house lies patches of daises and dandelions. 

i make my way towards the blue farmhouse, tying up my thick, brown hair in the process. once i reach the doorway i unlatch the lock and swing the doors wide open. a wave of a terrible smell hurdles out into the open, the stench for so strong it causes a series of coughs from me. as much as i love this farm, i can never get used to the horrendous smell that welcomes me in the morning.

the sound of chickens and other animals echo in my ears. i smile.

'rise and shine beauties!' i shout to the farm animals. 

they quack, squeak, oink, and bock in response.

'i know, i know, it's too darn early for this', i say with a smirk. 'but you know how mom gets'. 

surprisingly, i don't have the southern twain most people think i would have. sure, i was born out in the country, but my parents made the rational decision to raise a farm in the early years of their marriage. having been city lovers, they got tired of the overwhelming honks of the cars that seem to come from out of nowhere; the endless shine from the street lanterns that never seem to turn off at the right moment. to summarize it, they needn't peace and quiet, and what better way to be engulfed in silence than raising another town in your back lawn- this one just more animal than others.

soon enough i came along. blue eyed, rosy cheeks, and small as my mom's forearm. 

i never thought of living in the city. from the stories i've been told the city sounds chaotic and meant for destruction. 'it never sleeps', my dad had told me when i was shorter and six years younger. the farm feels too much like home to me, to my heart. i couldn't leave now if i wanted to. 

all my memories are here. my first time i saw a cow give birth to a baby cattle, my birthdays, the first time i met...him. my heart goes on a small marathon when his name wonders into my thoughts. the image of his face blurs my vision. but as soon as it appears i shake it away. 

there's no way i'll let someone as...amazing...as him clog my mind and keep me from what matters most. and what matters most is cleaning the chickens den - at the moment at least.

i climb the wooden ladder to reach the chicken den. soon my vision is in clear of the white and brown feathered birds and before i know it i get to work. 

once i'm done i head over for the eggs on the far wall where some chickens are resting on little nest's. slowly, but carefully, i take some from each nest. afterwards, i climb back down. the second my feet are planted on the ground a voice all too familiar forces me to jump and let my grip on the eggs loosen to where they're just cracked shells and oraange goo.

'oh, sorry, i didn't mean to scare you'. i turn slowly, red covering my cheeks. i clench my fist in annoyance at the boy standing in front of me.

looking relaxed with worn jeans, an old T-shirt that's tight enough to show what resulted in him working out, and hands stuffed in his pockets. but, you can't forget the usual smirk that seems to be permanently implanted on has handsome features.

what did i say about what matters most?

A/N: never have I wrote anything involving farms and chickens so I'm deeply sorry if I got anything wrong (you're welcomed to comment about it). I'm a definite city girl, but it doesn't hurt to imagine being a farm girl.

part two will be in one of the other dares. 

i would love to receive any of your liking's of this story and if you like my writing so much you should head on over to my profile page and check out my story The Adventures of Blue Jeans and Wonder Boy. I hope you think it's the bees-knees;)

-islands__