![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
priscaTitle: Burning the Letter
Character: Lee, Jeremiah, Erin
Word Count: 343
Prompt: writing, tragedy
Rating: PG13
:::
Lee stopped, watching Jeremiah frowning. „What are you doing there?“
The young man looked up, a piece of paper still in his hands. Flames were flickering over his face. „What does it look like?“
„Like a waste of resources. Paper is rare nowadays, and there is no reason to burn it when there is enough undergrowth nearby.“
„Well, it's my paper, so I guess this is none of your business.“
„Everything going on in the Mountain concerns me. I am responsible for the safety and well-being of everyone living here. If you want to stay...“
„Here you are, Lee.“ A young woman stepped out from between the trees. „Marcus is looking for you; it's something about the old fabric near Clearwater.“
Without hesitating, Lee turned to the big gate of the Mountain. „Okay. I need to talk to him anyway. Too many newcomers lately who don't follow the rules.“ One last glance at Jeremiah, then he was gone.
The young woman smiled. „Hello. My name is Erin. I guess you are one of the newcomers he is talking about?“
„Jeremiah,“ he answered. „And I give a shit about his rules.“ He stared into the flames, put the paper closer, watching it catching fire. „It needs to be done; the letter must burn.“
„You are writing a letter to burn it,“ Erin asked curiously.
Jeremiah shrugged; he didn't like to talk about it. This was a father-son thing. The only one which was still left. His father was gone, like his mother, like all the adults. Fifteen years ago, and he still missed him. He missed him so much that he would grab every chance to write him a letter. About his feelings, his fears, his lost hopes. About all he usually refused to think about. Life was hard; there was no time for sentiment.
So, after writing everything down that bothered him, he had to burn the letter—a letter to a father, who was most likely not alive anymore. No one else was supposed to read it.
Character: Lee, Jeremiah, Erin
Word Count: 343
Prompt: writing, tragedy
Rating: PG13
:::
Lee stopped, watching Jeremiah frowning. „What are you doing there?“
The young man looked up, a piece of paper still in his hands. Flames were flickering over his face. „What does it look like?“
„Like a waste of resources. Paper is rare nowadays, and there is no reason to burn it when there is enough undergrowth nearby.“
„Well, it's my paper, so I guess this is none of your business.“
„Everything going on in the Mountain concerns me. I am responsible for the safety and well-being of everyone living here. If you want to stay...“
„Here you are, Lee.“ A young woman stepped out from between the trees. „Marcus is looking for you; it's something about the old fabric near Clearwater.“
Without hesitating, Lee turned to the big gate of the Mountain. „Okay. I need to talk to him anyway. Too many newcomers lately who don't follow the rules.“ One last glance at Jeremiah, then he was gone.
The young woman smiled. „Hello. My name is Erin. I guess you are one of the newcomers he is talking about?“
„Jeremiah,“ he answered. „And I give a shit about his rules.“ He stared into the flames, put the paper closer, watching it catching fire. „It needs to be done; the letter must burn.“
„You are writing a letter to burn it,“ Erin asked curiously.
Jeremiah shrugged; he didn't like to talk about it. This was a father-son thing. The only one which was still left. His father was gone, like his mother, like all the adults. Fifteen years ago, and he still missed him. He missed him so much that he would grab every chance to write him a letter. About his feelings, his fears, his lost hopes. About all he usually refused to think about. Life was hard; there was no time for sentiment.
So, after writing everything down that bothered him, he had to burn the letter—a letter to a father, who was most likely not alive anymore. No one else was supposed to read it.