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Prolific Writer
Join Date: Jun 2006
Location: Long Island
Gender: Male
Posts: 384
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Primates (1000 words)
This is part of my series of metaphor peices. Two others in this fashion have already been published. I wrote this one sort of in response to the walmart trampling indicent on long island on black friday. was just some thoughts, opinions appreciated.
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Winter is coming, I have to prepare.
I am the head of my clan, which sounds niece, but being the alpha-male means certain responsibilities fall on me. The first and foremost being, I need to bring home the bulk of the food. My clan is a small one, my wife, her sister, my brother, our two sons, my mother and me. I know other clans out there are much, much larger than mine, but still, that’s a lot of mouths to feed.
Luckily, everyone helps out in some way. My wife and her sister, they take care of our dwelling and help take care of my mother since she’s getting on in years. Though my mother can do her fair share of work too—she can prepare the food like no other, and she always makes sure we’re warm by fixing up our animal skins. My wife and her sister do go out in the world from time to time, and they bring in what they can too, but it’s almost a written rule in this world that women can never gain as much as the men. It’s not fair, and it certainly doesn’t help my clan when two-thirds of our adults are female.
My brother does what he can, but he isn’t as strong as I am, he can’t bring in what I do. And my sons, well, they’re not ready yet. One day, they’ll be able to help…but you can’t make your way in this world until you reach a certain age. My younger son is only six, but the elder is almost thirteen. Two more years till some of the burden will fall on him as well.
The shelter we live in is pretty small—but it’s ours, it’s ours because no one else wants it. That’s the way things work in this world, if you have something that someone bigger, more powerful wants, they will get it one way or another. The best way to own something is to make sure it has absolutely no appeal to anyone else.
Like I said, the dwelling is humble. It’s like a cave in many ways, in the sense that we didn’t build it—it was there for us when we found it. It’s got one main living area, two side rooms and another area we all share for washing and disposing waste. Not much for all of us. But it’s something, and I am happy for that—I know of more than a few who have nothing.
We’re always looking for new ways to take our lives into our own hands, traditionally, we’ve been the hunter-gatherer type, going out there and bringing back what’s waiting for us. Not that long ago, we tried growing some vegetables. Other people do it. We’ve heard stories about it. Some grow so much that they can even trade it to other clans for meat and poultry, but the majority of the people still have trouble making any use of agriculture themselves. Traditionally, it’ s been in the hands of a select few for so long, the secrets still elude most of us. Either way, with winter coming, it isn’t the right season to attempt that. Instead, it’s the time to hoard.
Squirrels are hoarding, chipmunks are hoarding, bears are getting ready to hibernate—we have to get busy too. That’s why my brother and I left bright and early, before the sun came up—early bird gets the worm, and early hunter gets the meat. Unfortunately, we aren’t the only ones who had this idea. Hundreds of other hunters are out, many of them who got here before us. Lucky for us, at this spot, the prey is only available when the sun comes up.
The second the sun is in sight, the crowd runs towards the kill. There is pushing, and shoving, and trampling, you need to be strong, you need to be fast. Have to get there before anyone else, and have to bring back your quarry without anyone being able to take it from you. It’s messy, it’s barbaric, but it’s for survival.
My brother and I manage to get our fair share, somehow, someway, we weathered the storm. We head back to our little cave with enough food to make everyone in the clan happy. It’s a good thing, because one way or another, it doesn’t always happen.
After we bring in the food we sit in the main area. My children play on the floor by the fire while my brother and I sit wearing our animal skins and other forms of insulation, since we both can still see our breath. My wife and my sister are in the other room, skinning the food and rinsing it by the water source. My mother helps them—as much as she can.
There is victory today, but will it be that way tomorrow? I don’t know. Anything could happen at any time. And the way that things work, you are never sure you have what you have—you can lose it at any time. Other clans out there own more than we do, but they don’t really own it, it’s all up for the taking.
It could be worse—that’s the usual excuse for why living this way is alright. I’ll admit, it could be worse…a lot worse. But it could also be better, and that’s something that people try to overlook, because when you realize that, it’s too hard to take. I am grateful for what I have, I am. But every so often, when there’s down time, I can’t help but wonder why life has to be like it is.
Springtime will be better, it always is. But it’s a jungle out there, and despite what we’d like to believe, we are all primates in it. I sigh and turn to my brother from underneath my leather jacket and blanket. “You want to watch the parade?”
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Quoth The Raven "Nevermore"
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