Merry Christmas everyone. Today I am roasting a goose. I had nightmares about it and woke up early. In my dream thee was so much fat that it spilled out and set the whole house on fire. And then the neighborhood. And then somehow there was a volcano erupting, which is odd because I don’t live near a volcano. So I decided to get up and just calm myself with some writing while the rest of the house sleeps. So Its a Christmas prompt.
Okay not very Christmas-y, but I am feeling better about the goose.
Monday, December 25th: Thunder rumbled.
Thunder rumbled. The sound was distant, still the wind was starting to pick up and the clouds massing on the horizon were being pushed closer. Hank nodded and gathered the last of his tools, making sure they were secure before the storm hit. There was a good chance they would blow past him and not spill a drop of rain on his land. There was just as big a chance that the storm would hit with intensity.
In his six months on Rylash he learned to respect the sight of the storms and take precautions. Many had not been so lucky or assumed that this planets storm systems worked like the ones on earth. Hank was willing to believe that the science probably backed up much of their thought. However, he spent much of his life moving from one territory to another, most of them harsh and unforgiving. If there was one thing he learned it was that each space had Its own system. Each place had to be taken on it’s own, even if the science was the same.
Hank was unwilling to believe that the scientists with the team had cracked all of the systems on this planet yet. He was with the first team and he knew those with him established only base parameters, double checking what was known about Rylash to make sure it was habitable. Their field of expertise ran to air and water quality. He knew that much of what they found was unexpected and new.
They focused on the basics and made ready for the specialists. The specialists had only been around for a little over a month. He suspected Rylash still had plenty of surprises in store.
With all his kit secured, Hank let his gaze wander over the area looking to see if anything else needed tying down or if any of the others needed assistance. His stretch of land wasn’t large as such things went and his neighbors weren’t that far from him. On the other side of the settlement there were small farms, most enclosed areas with hydroponics and vertical garden beds to ensure that the human population would not starve despite the change of planet.
Hank’s patch had a small out door garden, mostly because he wanted the landscape around his workshop to be less than the bare patch he was given. The vegetable and fruit plants he thought of as an experiment. The petunias were for his wife. He always told her that they would have a bed of petunias when they settled. She never lived to see it, but he planted them just the same.
Nothing seemed out of order and Hank moved from his workshop to his home. He stepped inside and bolted the door behind him. He found out during his first storm that if the wind came calling, it could snatch a lose door from it’s hinges. It was best to bolt it down as if preparing for a riot.
The fact that the colonists were given domicile pods that dated to the riots and came equipped with extra functions like riot shields for windows and the door bracers for locks was something he found both amusing and a source of despair depending on the day. Sometimes he thought they were just using up old stock. Other times he thought it a commentary humanity’s ability for peaceful conduct.
Tonight he used the riot locks on the door so that not a whisper of wind could get through. The then lowered the riot shields. Living through the last of the riots, Hank was glad that tonight it was merely nature he kept at bay.
Ten til Midnight 