Bundle 1 - Thoughts of a plantation worker

A short extract of thoughts from a plantation worker.

A cool wind sifted through the luscious green spinach leaves, ready to be harvested. Beams of radiant sunlight blessed the slaves of the plantation with warmth, as they shuffled along the orderly rows of spinach plants, stretching out into the distance. One particular slave, who had adopted  the name Charlie, stood up from his work. 

His eyes were the first odd thing about him. Plain brown and simple, yet with an intense hatred festered inside of them. He glanced venomously at the taskmaster; resting under the shade of an oak tree, gnarled throughout the brunt caused by time. The tree, now the only tree surviving on the crest of a hill, stood proud aloof amongst the spinach plants.  The taskmaster held a toothpick between his lips and a well worn hat rested softly upon the man's eyes. He snored soundly, of course, since there was not a chance that the slaves would rebel under his command and whip. The black leather whip rested snug in his folded arms, protected from thieving hands. 

Charlie spat in the ground and looked down at his hands. Dark and wrinkled, he ran them through his short hair and sighed. He wouldn't think of doing anything yet. Not now, when he was exhausted from a hard day's work. Instead he would wait for his time and strike when the opportunity came. He shivered as memories of being flogged, flooded his mind, and he unconsciously touched the scars on his bare back. That time had been a mistake, but he wouldn't make the same mistake again. Carefully, he wiped sweat off on his loincloth, a crude excuse for a cloth, used and bloodied by another. 

"That you slackin' off Charlie? Get back to work or the whip will do the talkin'!" the taskmaster shouted and cracked his whip. Charlie took the warning however, and bent down to start the laborious task of picking spinach leaves. " Not now." he whispered to himself, "Someday though, the whip will do the talking, and when that day comes... it will be in my hands." And with that he picked up the leaves and threw them in the wicker basket below him.

Author's Note

Wrote this VERY short story for a contest

Reviews

[Mila]

Thank you for this submission, it was a delight to read! I put the words in each bundle together at random, and it was amazing how you found such a creative way to string them together. The story was short, but it held a world of meaning, and I hope you are very proud of it!

-Mila