The Ghost of Winn Peterson

6. Winn

17 August

What a most exciting day it has been, dearest journal! I found it an appropriate time to visit with the town today, having made up my mind to find some manner of plantable foods, a post office, and a perfectly coincidental meeting with a young woman in need of a housemate, and had left rather early to see to these desires when I was foolishly struck by a rainstorm before I'd even left the premises of the walkway to the house. Now why, you might wonder, did I not simply go back inside and wait out the rain like a sensible person? I should hardly need to remind you that I do not think things through very thoroughly, and when given the opportunity to display my stubbornness for my own desires, will always fight to display it. Who was I to let the rain dictate my actions? As endearing as the weather usually was, and sitting indoors over a book while I listened to the loving hum of rain was a favourite pastime of mine, I still needed food for the future, and candles! By the heavens, I could not forget the candles, or I would find myself without light very shortly for who knew how long, until the rain decided to up and move countries, I would think. No, it would not do to wait out the storm that so untimely opened over my head, so I did what any stubborn, insensible young woman would do, and I walked right through the rain towards the cluster of darkened buildings in town.

Naturally, my stubbornness was at once rewarded with a fevre that broke out nearly as soon as I stepped foot into the main store. Health already ruined, I was rendered a coughing mess for an embarrassing amount of time, until the shopkeeper ushered me into the living quarters behind the store and guided me to a kettle and a coat.

"What on God's green earth possessed you to go out in this weather?" They were a gruff sort, but I appreciated the tea and the coverings, so the rumble of their voice was far more welcome than it would have been on a sunny day.

"I'm sorry! I needed to replenish a few supplies, and I couldn't very well wait." This warranted a snort from the owner, whose eyebrows were fantastically bushy and covered a great deal of his forehead. They admonished me for not waiting, at which point several small faces peeped from around his tree-seized legs. Strangers apparently a rarity, I was soon besieged by three children, none more than five years, and plied for details about where I'd come from, where I was going, how long would I stay, and if I would please play a game. Being raised near the sea always offered plenty of companionship amongst those whose parents had been away for far too long, but never this young! Still, I understood the importance of children pestering people, and I entertained their questions as long as I could.

Here, I remembered my poor decision to leave the house, and sneezed so hard that I'm afraid I startled two of the children into tears! Imagine that. I blushed in fierce embarrassment and covered my face as one of the children screamed and fled behind the shopkeeper's legs once more, the others taking flight up the stairs, where their mother soon emerged from.

There are occasional people you meet in the world (how lofty do I sound, as though I have an ounce of wisdom in me!) where, upon seeing their face for the first time, you are certain you know everything there is to know about them. The wife and mother, who stepped so slowly and weightlessly down each step was, one of these people. I had seen plenty of women and girls and the rare man besieged with sickness from the inside, a sort of consumption of the soul from the bones outward, and their features were all shared - her face was a soft grey, as though rubbed tenderly with the sooty remains from a fire, and her eyes had lost the vibrancy held not long ago, soon enough in time to have no doubt happily produced all of those children. Her hair was wrapped up, so all I could see of it was the peek of a braid behind her should, but what of it I could see was so thin and wispy I would have been heavily surprised to see that she was not balding. It was a pitiful sight, but so filled with compassion was I, that I stood at once and clasped my hands to my chest and uttered some sigh of teary-eyed woe.