![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Author: Urb-banal
Week One, September
Prompt: Ya Got Trouble
Word Count: 700
Warnings: PG, language maybe
Title: Lady Dreams
Lady Dreams
" I got a job and a suit and a mask standing by a machine that fills little bottles with gross smelling liquids. But I have no intention of staying there for too long dad. I’m no dullard. I am not just pretty, I’m pretty smart."
Harry, an old man in dirty briefs, leaned over the cot he was half sitting, half lying on and grabbed a bottle from under it. "Well don't ya get all high and mighty about it. Remember, your mother and me named ya 'Lady' as a joke!"
"Well maybe you thought it was a joke but I'm going to make it a reality! I'm going to get one of those executives to notice me, fall in love with me and then marry me and then I'll live in one of those nice high rises with all the works!"
"And how is anyone going to tell ya from all the other automatons they got working suited up wearing masks?" He pulled his greying undershirt over his belly and squinted at the bottle, turning it sideways to spy the little amount of amber liquid that remained.
She frowned at him and decided to ignore what he said in favour of imagining the life she was going to have. "I'm going to have hot showers, hot food, clean clothes and cash!"
A quick sponge bath in front of the stove was it for Lady's dad. A constant state of inebriation dulled the senses enough that nothing seemed worth a lot of trouble. He was never guilty of "false modesty" even when sober. Though he was often accused of a lack of pride.
"Well, don't forget yr responsibilities at home yr Majesty. I've got a business to run and ya have to keep up the bills. "
The two hours of electricity a day they were rationed Lady used to rent out a sewing machine to people who wanted to do mending. Her dad's 'business' was talking to the old ladies who used the machine to refurbish and mend the clothes and then sell them at the market. He claimed they needed watching, but Lady suspected he liked their company.
"This is where yr from and this is where ya belong and when the company is done with ya, POISONED Ya by exposing ya to all sorts of chemicals, this is where I'll have to bury ya." He pointed the neck of the bottle towards her for emphasis.
She was unimpressed. Lady looked past the dim light of the room out the window in the kitchen which was also Harry's bedroom. The back yard had an outhouse. The yard wasn't much larger than the outhouse, just enough for two folding chairs if you didn't mind touching knees. There was a grill with a battered up old coffee percolator sitting on it.
She closed her eyes and sighed. She would get to drink real coffee in the canteen, no more of the chicory swill they could barely afford.
Outhouses were against the by-laws. Those without working plumbing (everyone) were supposed to use the communal toilets that were installed at the end of the street, but they were often occupied by rats and just as often not working anyway. It was long time since the city could afford workers to go around snooping and besides, everyone was doing the same thing.
Nobody in the burbs had running water and everyone had to line up to fill jugs at the Sally, the last remaining community center. Some drank water they collected in barrels but if it wasn't boiled you were taking a big risk of getting diarrhea that could kill you.
"I'll be burying you more like dad, all the trouble you give me!"
"Well, we'll see won't we? I'm telling ya, jobs may come and go but when ya have no family that's when ya got trouble! Ya might be fifteen years old with a fancy job and think ya know everything, but ya got nothing without yr da, nothing but trouble!"
He stood up and started singing some song from an old timey musical he had memorized back in the day, grabbing her hands and dancing around in the tiny space until she was laughing so hard she had to hold her stomach.
"Friends, ya got trouble!"
Week One, September
Prompt: Ya Got Trouble
Word Count: 700
Warnings: PG, language maybe
Title: Lady Dreams
Lady Dreams
" I got a job and a suit and a mask standing by a machine that fills little bottles with gross smelling liquids. But I have no intention of staying there for too long dad. I’m no dullard. I am not just pretty, I’m pretty smart."
Harry, an old man in dirty briefs, leaned over the cot he was half sitting, half lying on and grabbed a bottle from under it. "Well don't ya get all high and mighty about it. Remember, your mother and me named ya 'Lady' as a joke!"
"Well maybe you thought it was a joke but I'm going to make it a reality! I'm going to get one of those executives to notice me, fall in love with me and then marry me and then I'll live in one of those nice high rises with all the works!"
"And how is anyone going to tell ya from all the other automatons they got working suited up wearing masks?" He pulled his greying undershirt over his belly and squinted at the bottle, turning it sideways to spy the little amount of amber liquid that remained.
She frowned at him and decided to ignore what he said in favour of imagining the life she was going to have. "I'm going to have hot showers, hot food, clean clothes and cash!"
A quick sponge bath in front of the stove was it for Lady's dad. A constant state of inebriation dulled the senses enough that nothing seemed worth a lot of trouble. He was never guilty of "false modesty" even when sober. Though he was often accused of a lack of pride.
"Well, don't forget yr responsibilities at home yr Majesty. I've got a business to run and ya have to keep up the bills. "
The two hours of electricity a day they were rationed Lady used to rent out a sewing machine to people who wanted to do mending. Her dad's 'business' was talking to the old ladies who used the machine to refurbish and mend the clothes and then sell them at the market. He claimed they needed watching, but Lady suspected he liked their company.
"This is where yr from and this is where ya belong and when the company is done with ya, POISONED Ya by exposing ya to all sorts of chemicals, this is where I'll have to bury ya." He pointed the neck of the bottle towards her for emphasis.
She was unimpressed. Lady looked past the dim light of the room out the window in the kitchen which was also Harry's bedroom. The back yard had an outhouse. The yard wasn't much larger than the outhouse, just enough for two folding chairs if you didn't mind touching knees. There was a grill with a battered up old coffee percolator sitting on it.
She closed her eyes and sighed. She would get to drink real coffee in the canteen, no more of the chicory swill they could barely afford.
Outhouses were against the by-laws. Those without working plumbing (everyone) were supposed to use the communal toilets that were installed at the end of the street, but they were often occupied by rats and just as often not working anyway. It was long time since the city could afford workers to go around snooping and besides, everyone was doing the same thing.
Nobody in the burbs had running water and everyone had to line up to fill jugs at the Sally, the last remaining community center. Some drank water they collected in barrels but if it wasn't boiled you were taking a big risk of getting diarrhea that could kill you.
"I'll be burying you more like dad, all the trouble you give me!"
"Well, we'll see won't we? I'm telling ya, jobs may come and go but when ya have no family that's when ya got trouble! Ya might be fifteen years old with a fancy job and think ya know everything, but ya got nothing without yr da, nothing but trouble!"
He stood up and started singing some song from an old timey musical he had memorized back in the day, grabbing her hands and dancing around in the tiny space until she was laughing so hard she had to hold her stomach.
"Friends, ya got trouble!"
