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E - Everyone

Ursa - Chapter I of Wanderer

by whatchamacallit


A cheerful voice woke me from my reminiscing.

"Hello? Hello, hello, hello?"

I blinked my eyes, focusing them on the source of the sound.

"Uh ... hello," I replied to a pale girl with black hair. Her appearance brought to mind a moon shining out from under the night of her dark hair. I wonder who she is?

"Hello, hello!" She cried again. "I'm Ursa! Your neighbour, that is. I was wondering - oh, dear me, I guess you should introduce yourself first, oughtn't you?"

"Um - yes?" Something about her rendered me speechless. "My - my name is Avani."

"What a pretty name . . ." she trailed off dreamily, her big blue eyes shining like stars. "Anyways, I was wondering if you'd like to come with me on a trip? There's nothing left for me here, and neither for you, I think, that is, your mother ... well, anyway, I thought we could head north, where there's more farmland."

She sounded so decided, like she'd already planned the trip, it didn't even cross my mind to say no.

"Well, then, it's settled!" She laughed. "Come, we must plan the trip."

The next few days were spent packing. Ursa took the stairs from her apartment down to mine, and sat at my kitchen table reading a list. She got up once in a while, and walk around the room. "I can't stay still," she explained. As the days passed, something new was always added. One day it was pillows, the next it was a flashlight.

"Soap?" she asked.

"Mm-hm."

"Spices?"

"Spices?" I asked.

"Yeah, like, oregano and pepper and sugar and such?"

"I know what spices are," I said. "I just didn't ... think of that."

"Well," Ursa said, sounding slightly exasperated for a second before regaining her cheerful composure, "do you have any?"

I got up from my seat at the kitchen table and walked over to the cabinets. They were whitewashed, though some paint was peeling and the handles were getting loose. Like this world.

"Avani?" Ursa sounded amused. "You gonna open that thing?"

"Yeah, yeah." I swung the door leading to the spices open, leaving me face to face with piles of packages. It resembled to me rather a dump, filled with mountains of garbage. I couldn't remember a time since the dumps hadn't been out of space. Since Earth hasn't been out of space, come to think of it.

I scanned the labels looking for a familiar name. "Um ... fennel - ew, hate that stuff - ... sugar ... garlic ... cayenne pepper ... salt ... ajwain ..."

"What the heck is ajwain?" Ursa interrupted.

"Something my mom used to cook with."

"Oh. Continue."

Where was I? salt, ajwain ...

"Jalapeno pepper ... sweet cicely ... dill - gross - ... bay leaves ... sage ... cinnamon ..."

"Okay, okay," Ursa put in, "You don't have to read them all aloud."

Thanks goodness for that, I grinned to myself. I was super worried.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, nothing," I quickly said

"Bring them over here, we'll sort what we want to bring and what we don't want. Fennel, for example, is, as you say, disgusting. By the way, does your computer work? So we can see what each spice is for?"

"Without electricity?" I snorted. "Nope."

"Sorry, sorry." She sounded wounded. "I'm just not that technical."

Either way, we spent the rest of the day sorting spices into two piles - bring and don't bring. Ursa was much more decisive than me, so there was no maybe pile.

She said she'd stay for dinner - which really meant she would help me scavenge the nearby stores for some food and then eat some of it.

At one store, with some stupid name like Fresh.com, we found cheese that wasn't mold and eggs that weren't rotten.

"Score!" Ursa exclaimed. She didn't point out that it took a long time to find anything still edible.

"Why do you always look on the bright side?" I asked her before I could stop the words from escaping.

"Because there is one," she answered simply.

I couldn't think of a reply, so I continued dumping the food into a bag that had belonged to my mom. It said, The only BS I need is BAGS & SHOES. She had been a fan of funny quotes.

"What are you thinking of?" Ursa asked.

"Hmm? Oh, just stuff ..." I replied, escaping the answer. My mom. Ursa didn't push me for any more.

After that we went to a convenience store my mom had gone to lots - Melany's Mini-Market.

On creaking wooden shelves there were rows and rows of canned soups, cheeses, jerkies, herbs, sour cream, and other canned things which I didn't know the name of. My mom had never bought jerky in particular - too many preservatives, she claimed. But seeing as most of the food left had preservatives, there wasn't much me and Ursa could do about it.

"Why don't we bring some of the jerky home?" Ursa suggested. "To pack for our trip?"

"Sure."

Ursa spied some Italian Wedding Day Soup and grabbed that, along with powdered milk.

"I don't really like powdered milk," I informed Ursa when I saw her add that to the bag. By this time she'd filled the BS bag and was using one that said, To save time, let's just assume I'm never wrong.

Ursa grinned at me. "Well, there isn't any regular milk, is there?"

I sighed. As we left the store, I caught sight of a aisle with jell-O. "Ursa! Jell-O?"

Ursa's mouth stretched in a grin much bigger than before. "But of course!"

After Melany's Mini-Market we headed back to my apartment. My apartment. How funny that sounds.

Many staircases later, we reached the door. I heard a scratching sound just inside the door.

"Do you hear that?" I whispered to Ursa.

"Yeah."

"What should we do?"

"Open the door, of course," Ursa said, growing excited.

"Shhh! Hey, what are you -"

But I was too late. Ursa had set the bags down, and her hand stretched towards the doorknob, turned it, and pushed the door open.

"Didn't I lock it?" I wondered aloud.

Ursa shrugged.

As the door swung open, a terrible sight met our eyes. "Oh no," I cried out.

Everywhere, chairs were tipped over and cabinet door left hanging open. Sofas ripped and windows cracked. Mom's favourite vase, a turquoise one, was shattered. The whole apartment was torn top to bottom.

Ursa's eyes opened wide in amazement. "Wow!" she seemed almost to respect whoever had done it.

"Ursa! Don't you see? All our supplies were here!" I groaned. Just at that moment, though, we heard a scraping sound. Oh gosh, the burglar is still here!

We turned towards the sound and saw a black glove slide the only not cracked window shut.

"The burglar took the escape route," Ursa noted, still calm.

"B-" I stopped and just shook my head.

"Don't just stand there!"

"You're the one just standing!"

Ursa ignored me and opened the window, slipping onto the rackety stairs that led downwards. I sighed and pulled myself after her.

"What are you planning on doing?" I asked her, running as fast as I could down the rusting stairs to keep up. Every other step I looked down to make sure the next step wasn't broken.

"Tackling the burglar, what else?"

Again I shook my head. She must be crazy. I voiced my doubts but Ursa just chuckled and continued running full speed ahead, velvet black hair streaming behind her.

Being on the fifteenth floor, it's very easy to imagine how out of breath and full of cramps I was by the time we were on the ground. Ursa looked around for a moment, before she pointed towards a black figure slipping around the building and into an alleyway.

"Classic. An alleyway."

"Eh," Ursa smiled before sprinting after the figure.

I had enough cramps for ten people, let alone one."Oh, you've gotta be kidding me. I'm waiting here."

Ursa ignored me. As usual, I ended up following her. Down the alleyway, which was draped with shadows that seemed to catch at my legs. Or perhaps that was because my legs felt like lead. 

Ursa led me from one alley another, each darker and more stinky than the next. She ran around a particularly decrepit corner, and I followed ... bang smack into her boney back.

"Hey!" I exclaimed.

"Lost 'im."

"And all that for nothing."

Ursa grinned. "But a great exercise."

"What about all that food? Don't you even care?" 

She ignored me, dusting off her navy blue track pants and rearranging the matching necklace that swooped down around her neck.

"Ursa?"

Finally she turned to me, a grin on her face. "Don't worry. I have a stash back at the ranch."

"What ranch?" I asked, confused.

"Oh, blimey!"

I never got an answer.

Together, we trudged back home. My muscles ached from running straight out for what seemed like hours, and my throat was parched. My hat - a pretty forest green hat that sat on my head sideways - was more askew than usual. My jean shorts were sticking to my legs, and my shirt was stained with sweat. Ursa, on the other hand, was calm and tidy looking. Her hair was meticulously braided - I didn't know how she did it, seeing as she could stay still or quiet for long - her shirt not at all crinkled, her track pants with not a stray fluff sticking to them.

"Aren't you hot? With those sweats?" I wondered.

"Sweats? Track pants, more like. And no, I'm not. I'm cold, if you must know," she replied.

"Cold?! Weirdo."

Just then the apartment building stretched above us, supplying me with merciful shade. We reached the glass door which Ursa pulled open, ushering me inside. "Ladies first!"

I muttered something about us both being ladies but Ursa just rolled her eyes. "Jes go with it."

We climbed up the stairs for what seemed like the billionth time that day. Finally we arrived at the my apartment - Ma and I had painted the door a cheerful, deep red when I was little.

"Here we are! Let's see what's left," Ursa said cheerfully. I just raised my eyebrow. How could they? I wondered to myself. How could they ruin the house Ma and Pa worked so hard on together, tear my remaining reminders of them?

Oblivious of my internal plight, Ursa pulled me into the room. The carpets were stained with wine from a glass Ma had saved in memory of him. His favourite wine, a Cabernet Sauvignon called Lost Valley. He had always told me it tasted "Of blackberries and green olives," but I had never interested myself in testing his knowledge.

The paintings on the walls were hung crooked - the ones that were still there, that is. The one of Pa, among others, were gone.

I took a deep breath, and then another. "Oh," I choked back a sob. "P-pa's portrait is gone."

Ursa leaned over and hugged me. "Hush, darling. Hush. It's all alright."

I shook her off and ran out of the room. She didn't follow. I heard her opening some cabinets, probably taking stalk of what was left.

I passed the forgotten grocery bags as I crossed the hall to old Mrs. Montgomery's place. She had told me she was named after some famous writer, some Amy or something, but I hadn't paid much attention. Now I wished I had as I scanned her old oak bookshelf looking for something to bury myself in. I found some cookbook called Emma's Elements in the Kitchen and plopped myself down on the gushy blue couch, sinking into the leather folds.

I flipped through the weathered old book, trying to read, but I wasn't really reading. I was looking through the pictures, at recipes Mrs. Montgomery used to cook me. Mexican bean salad, spicy pecan soup, mushroom sauté.

Before I knew, the light was dimming and I had to strain to see the pictures. I didn't want to go back to my apartment, so I stayed where I was, crumpled on the couch with a book on my stomach.


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Tue Sep 05, 2017 4:56 pm
Aley wrote a review...



Hello whatchamacallit,

Overall, I'm not really a fan of reading about apocalyptic stuff because I think there are too many things that can be overlooked when talking about the fatigue of the body and the ability to ration and develop a sustainable government, but hey, I'm not here to critique what you want to write about, I'm here to critique your writing!

I think this first chapter is kind of slow. I like how you develop the situation and create a fundamental need, but I think you're relying too heavily on people reading your prologue. In the first chapter you have to cover some basics, and you can't do that with a rough overview like you have here. In other words, I like how you're developing the plot. Two girls are going north [you don't explain why] and they're leaving behind their old lives [you don't explain why] and then we find out that there has been a demolition of society [you don't explain why] and these girls are alone and abandoned to their fate. If you added in a few more explanations, it might make me feel more for the MC and her companion.

The reason I think you shouldn't rely on your prologue is because there are a lot of people [myself included] who do not actually read prologues. They are supposed to be things that just introduce a history of events. Many people think that they're unnecessary and if the chapter is necessary to the book, then it just needs to be Ch. 1 rather than Prologue. The same thing happens with epilogues.

Either way, I think that you're missing some information in your first chapter because of that. For instance, I don't really know the MC's name. You say it once, Avani, but that's it. If you have Ursa call her by name more often, then it'll stick. I also don't know what she looks like, and you could describe her mom or dad in a picture to give us an approximation by saying things like "I had my mother's [color] hair and my dad's [shape] face."

I also think that you're missing some sensory data when it comes to the actual writing itself. What about smell? I mean you get the cramps in there which is a feeling sense, something you physically feel, but you don't tell us about smell, or things they hear, or even really colors and such. You're more into a thought pattern than actually filling us in on these details and details make the books deep.

All in all, I had a few reading notes I wanted to share with you, and then I'll be out of your hair.

The next few days were spent packing. Ursa would take the stairs from her apartment down to mine, and sit at my kitchen table reading a list. She would get up once in a while, and walk around the room. "I can't stay still," she would explain. Everyday something else was added. One day it was pillows, the next it was a flashlight.

"Soap?" she would ask.


In this section it sounds odd becuase you keep saying "would" this and "would" that when typically you would just read "The next few days were spent packing, Ursa took the stairs from her apartment down to mine and sat at my kitchen table reading a list. She got up once in a while, and walked around the room. "I can't stay still," she explained. Every day something else added to her list. One day it was pillows, the next it was flashlights.

"Soap?" she asked."

It's almost like you're in a mock future tense here when you're really supposed to be in past tense.

I couldn't remember a time since the dumps hadn't been out of space. Since Earth hasn't been out of space, come to think of it.


I'm not sure what you mean by "out of space" do you mean crammed?

After that point I was pretty much reading the story right along without any hitches. It was just a little boring because I didn't understand everything visually or with my senses, however, I did appreciate that you got into some action and explained what was going on a little bit.

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Thanks for the review!



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Mon Sep 04, 2017 8:30 pm
Steggy wrote a review...



Hello, Steggy here for a short review! I haven't read the prologue so if I get anything wrong, let me know!

Usually starting a chapter with dialogue is a bit hard because you don't know who is speaking. It could be anyone, really. Most people do it because they think that it'll add a sort of mysterious feel for whoever is but usually, it can be confusing for the reader. A suggestion that I think might help you would be simply to give some better background at what is going to happen (although, you might've done that in the prologue, though it couldn't hurt to do again). Another thing, I noticed as I was reading was most of the characters talking don't exactly like have a sort of description to how they talk. It is easy to assume that one of the characters talk in a high shrilly voice but often times, that could be the wrong assumption. So, what I think you should do is kind of give a description to their voice, kind of what you did in the beginning.

Her appearance brought to mind a moon shining out from under the night of her dark hair. I wonder who she is?


While I do like your description happening here, it seems to be worded awkwardly, which is fine because it happens because it sounds better in our head rather on paper. How I would suggest rewording it would be taking her appearance and saying "her appearance made me think of a moon shining through the darkness" or something similar. Then straight after that with the internal thought. It also seems to be worded weirdly but it's okay! As a suggestion, you could reword it as "I wonder who she might be?" or again, something else.

Reading over it again, most of this chapter is just dialogue. Usually, that's okay but I think you could somehow like, give some plot advancement because the trip invitation just happens suddenly. Maybe you could give some time between Avani and Ursa? Though maybe they'll get to know each other during the trip.

Overall, I enjoyed this chapter. I can't wait to see what's in store between Avani and Ursa. If you have any questions, let me know!

Steggy






Thanks for the review! I'll take into mind some of the stuff you said.




The brain is wider than the sky.
— Emily Dickenson