LJ Idol 2011; topic three.
sCrap Metal
Coprolite; fossilized excrement.
The spade cut through the dirt and unexpectedly scraped against something metal. Andrian felt the grating motion all up his arms and shuddered involuntarily, his back prickling. Then he cursed, leaning back and gripping the end of the spade to yank it out again without turning up the weed he’d been trying to dig out.
“What was that?” asked Filip, just a few feet away and turning to see what Andrian was doing. Good enough lad, Filip, lanky and young, but sometimes just a little too easily distracted. He was new to it, though, only sent by three days ago; he’d learn.
“Ehh, I don’t know.” He was going to need to get it turned up if they wanted to get the field ready for sowing, though. It was a new field, with lots of weeds that needed digging up-weeds and other things. Mostly it was chunks of stone, often it was chunks of metal; the boys had been growing a collection since the land had been marked off for farmland.
“I heard this region used to be the site of an old civilisation,” Filip said. With a glance over Andrian saw his eyes were wide, his mouth lifted crookedly at one side with a wondering grin. “Always hoped I’d be able to dig something up. Something … special.”
Andrian snorted and reached out to give the youth a light cuff. “You won’t get your chance if you don’t get back to work.”
Filip ducked and grinned unrepentantly, retreating back to his own quarter but not without turning so he could watch Andrian dig up his newest find. The object, whatever it was, didn’t seem to be too far down, so with a grunt Andrian changed hands, shifting his spade so it was at a better angle to cut away the part of the weed in the way and then scrape away the dirt. No telling what was down there; too many spades had been dented against a piece of debris harder than the labourer expected.
The object was less than a foot deep and within a minute or two the stained and dulled metal came into view under Andrian’s spade. To Andrian’s relief he saw it wasn’t all that big; he wouldn’t need to get the other hands out to help dig it out, at any rate, and the more it was uncovered the more he saw it would be easy for him to deal with alone. The side facing him was fairly flat, taking into account the passing of time, but when he stooped to pick it up and turned it over in his hand he saw that the other side was even more weathered and pitted, and marked with patterns. Andrian frowned down at it for a moment, tilting his head as if that would help them make sense.
“What is it?” Filip asked at his shoulder, so Andrian tilted the piece so he could see the patterns too. The youth reached out a finger to trace them, his eyes wide with fascination, and Andrian’s mouth pulled up at the side in a humourless smile. He’d seen it before-the types who wanted to come out and hunt for old and useless objects. But relic hunting wouldn’t put seeds in the ground or food on the table, and every man’s back was needed.
“Andrian! Filip! What the hell are you gawking over?”
The sound of their foreman’s roaring voice made Filip wince and scuttle behind Andrian, but the older man only looked up and lifted the metal piece to wave it.
“Just a bit of debris,” he called. The foreman snorted.
“Toss it and get moving, then. The shit of an old civilisation isn’t gonna feed us next winter.”
With that he turned away toward the next pair along the line and Andrian glanced down at Filip. The youth looked wistfully at the piece of metal, but Andrian shook his head and sighed. “Best get those thoughts out of your head, boy. Isn’t room for looking to the past anymore.”
With a heavy sigh Filip shuffled back to his section, casting pensive glances back, but Andrian made for the barrel in which their scrap was tossed. Despite himself he paused for just a moment, his brow furrowed as he traced the patterns on the metal with his callused fingers.
L E S T W E F O R G
Maybe it meant something. Maybe it was just a pretty pattern. Who could tell with those old civilisations? It was them that had killed themselves. With a shrug Andrian tossed the metal piece into the barrel, where it clanged and came to rest amongst others of its kind; and then he turned, shading his eyes from the sun, to head back to the weed he’d been digging.
[Written for therealljidol, topic three, week three.]
Coprolite; fossilized excrement.
The spade cut through the dirt and unexpectedly scraped against something metal. Andrian felt the grating motion all up his arms and shuddered involuntarily, his back prickling. Then he cursed, leaning back and gripping the end of the spade to yank it out again without turning up the weed he’d been trying to dig out.
“What was that?” asked Filip, just a few feet away and turning to see what Andrian was doing. Good enough lad, Filip, lanky and young, but sometimes just a little too easily distracted. He was new to it, though, only sent by three days ago; he’d learn.
“Ehh, I don’t know.” He was going to need to get it turned up if they wanted to get the field ready for sowing, though. It was a new field, with lots of weeds that needed digging up-weeds and other things. Mostly it was chunks of stone, often it was chunks of metal; the boys had been growing a collection since the land had been marked off for farmland.
“I heard this region used to be the site of an old civilisation,” Filip said. With a glance over Andrian saw his eyes were wide, his mouth lifted crookedly at one side with a wondering grin. “Always hoped I’d be able to dig something up. Something … special.”
Andrian snorted and reached out to give the youth a light cuff. “You won’t get your chance if you don’t get back to work.”
Filip ducked and grinned unrepentantly, retreating back to his own quarter but not without turning so he could watch Andrian dig up his newest find. The object, whatever it was, didn’t seem to be too far down, so with a grunt Andrian changed hands, shifting his spade so it was at a better angle to cut away the part of the weed in the way and then scrape away the dirt. No telling what was down there; too many spades had been dented against a piece of debris harder than the labourer expected.
The object was less than a foot deep and within a minute or two the stained and dulled metal came into view under Andrian’s spade. To Andrian’s relief he saw it wasn’t all that big; he wouldn’t need to get the other hands out to help dig it out, at any rate, and the more it was uncovered the more he saw it would be easy for him to deal with alone. The side facing him was fairly flat, taking into account the passing of time, but when he stooped to pick it up and turned it over in his hand he saw that the other side was even more weathered and pitted, and marked with patterns. Andrian frowned down at it for a moment, tilting his head as if that would help them make sense.
“What is it?” Filip asked at his shoulder, so Andrian tilted the piece so he could see the patterns too. The youth reached out a finger to trace them, his eyes wide with fascination, and Andrian’s mouth pulled up at the side in a humourless smile. He’d seen it before-the types who wanted to come out and hunt for old and useless objects. But relic hunting wouldn’t put seeds in the ground or food on the table, and every man’s back was needed.
“Andrian! Filip! What the hell are you gawking over?”
The sound of their foreman’s roaring voice made Filip wince and scuttle behind Andrian, but the older man only looked up and lifted the metal piece to wave it.
“Just a bit of debris,” he called. The foreman snorted.
“Toss it and get moving, then. The shit of an old civilisation isn’t gonna feed us next winter.”
With that he turned away toward the next pair along the line and Andrian glanced down at Filip. The youth looked wistfully at the piece of metal, but Andrian shook his head and sighed. “Best get those thoughts out of your head, boy. Isn’t room for looking to the past anymore.”
With a heavy sigh Filip shuffled back to his section, casting pensive glances back, but Andrian made for the barrel in which their scrap was tossed. Despite himself he paused for just a moment, his brow furrowed as he traced the patterns on the metal with his callused fingers.
L E S T W E F O R G
Maybe it meant something. Maybe it was just a pretty pattern. Who could tell with those old civilisations? It was them that had killed themselves. With a shrug Andrian tossed the metal piece into the barrel, where it clanged and came to rest amongst others of its kind; and then he turned, shading his eyes from the sun, to head back to the weed he’d been digging.
[Written for therealljidol, topic three, week three.]