Limits of Infinity
Introduction
Mary hated the fort. The tall, sturdy logs were too restricting. If they were there for safety, why did they feel like a jail?
The woods is such a large place, she had always figured, a little freedom wouldn’t hurt us. But some were convinced it would.
The ‘savages’ as some called them were made out to be terrifying. They were worse than ten thousand monsters that hid under the bed, or the harsh winters that could only bring disease and famine. The savages were dangerous and no one was to leave the fort’s walls, at least, that’s what the elders had said.
They don’t know what they’re talking about, Mary concluded, and today I’m going to be set free.
Mary was seated in her family’s small cottage. Its roof constructed of straw and walls of mud—it was just enough to call home.
The kitchen Mary was stuck in was as warm as the coals in the fireplace as a pot of water simmered. It was the sixteen year old’s turn to make dinner for tonight. Her mother was away for today, tending as a nurse to the sick and injured.
Dropping some carrots into the water, Mary began to plan. Father is going to be away for a while, and mother will be with Miss Smith all day, for she is very sickly. The odds were in her favor today.
Slipping on her thin, worn brown shoes, Mary checked the pot once more. It should be okay. I’ll only be gone for an hour.
Without another doubt, she slid through the door.
The woods is such a large place, she had always figured, a little freedom wouldn’t hurt us. But some were convinced it would.
The ‘savages’ as some called them were made out to be terrifying. They were worse than ten thousand monsters that hid under the bed, or the harsh winters that could only bring disease and famine. The savages were dangerous and no one was to leave the fort’s walls, at least, that’s what the elders had said.
They don’t know what they’re talking about, Mary concluded, and today I’m going to be set free.
Mary was seated in her family’s small cottage. Its roof constructed of straw and walls of mud—it was just enough to call home.
The kitchen Mary was stuck in was as warm as the coals in the fireplace as a pot of water simmered. It was the sixteen year old’s turn to make dinner for tonight. Her mother was away for today, tending as a nurse to the sick and injured.
Dropping some carrots into the water, Mary began to plan. Father is going to be away for a while, and mother will be with Miss Smith all day, for she is very sickly. The odds were in her favor today.
Slipping on her thin, worn brown shoes, Mary checked the pot once more. It should be okay. I’ll only be gone for an hour.
Without another doubt, she slid through the door.
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I am so excited for this story!I feel a special relation to it; it's my favorite history and I'm very familiar with it.
So far, there are over 4,000 word written on a Word document, so it's in the works.
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