Dinah: A Short Story

Nine days they had been gardening, sowing and tilling and then putting glass walls and ceiling up. Autumn fled farther and farther from Summer, hard on the track of Winter – each day colder than the day that came before it – this day the coldest of all. Wind blew out of the north and made the trees rustle like paper skirts. All day Dinah felt as though someone were watching her someone curious and shy and afraid to speak to her. She felt something else too. A stirring from within and the woman wanted nothing so much as to run open throttle for the safety of her room but that was not an idea to share with her companion.
Especially since her companion was the one she thought was watching her.
Dinah had been the only child of a Before household

He studied the darkening horizon in that bored distracted way he had. Dinah had known the man long enough to understand that it was best not to interrupt him when he looked like that. She nearly fell asleep waiting for a response. In a state of both awake and unconscious she dreamed of a room with thick steel screens floor to ceiling and wall to wall and a thick screened door with rusted locks and chains and a small viewing port. The huge deadbolt had rusted closed. The paint on the door was rippled from moisture. She pleaded wordlessly to be let out and the bolt slid silently away. The door swung open without a sound and Tacoma filled the doorway with his huge frame.
Not in the flatlands he answered at last awakening her. Tell me again what they said Dinah. All the details. Leave nothing out.
Dinah had been an outcast before she joined Turtle and Ham. She had been an oddity at the very least. The Elders had caught her on her own island teaching the village children about the Gaia and it had been a choice of leaving on her own and being put out a long distance away from the village so that there was no temptation to return. No one could spot edibles in the wild as Dinah could but it was near winter and she had no stores. It had not taken Turtle long to convince the woman that Ham could provide everything she

I stayed as long as I dared. There are a few of them men and women both. No children that I could see. They put up tents under the bare trees. The snow will cover them if they stay long – there's no protection – but they had no plans to linger. The fire burned high in the pit they dug. No one seemed ready to leave. I had nothing to trade with. They might be there still.
Did you see any Villagers in the camp.
No Dinah replied.
Did you see what they had to trade.
Some steel utensils. A few wool blankets. A heavy wood axe with an iron head. Books – dozens of them spread out on plastic on the ground.
Did you make note of any boots.
Dinah shuddered from a sudden gust of chilly wind that bent the flames and wrapped itself around her.
A couple of pairs on a table. Some in a box. Like they were packing up to leave.
Or going to bed for the night the big man suggested hopefully.
Maybe Dinah agreed. There’s a woman with seeds and hemp products. A vegan like me. She smiled fondly.
I took care she never saw me. If I got closer and she spotted me she would follow me until I bought something and I had nothing I wanted to part with.
Despite herself she shivered again.
You have a chill the big man asked.
Some Dinah murmured. Its the cold breeze