Saga The Diary of a Dead Man; Written for the Dear Diary Challenge; OCs; updated 2/7

Cool! He's helping them.

Don't worry about being late--as long as you've gotten here! Exams are rough, I know, my spring break was LAST week.

Thanks for the PM.

 

Hope that your exams went well. Another great update.

 

Laine_Snowtrekker: Yep. He's finally found a bit of a niche.

VaderLVR64: Thanks, I believe they did. And thanks, again.
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All right, here's the chapter I meant to post on Tuesday. Enjoy!

Day Fifty-Eight: Mon Calamari spaceport

My geography and social studies textbooks at home never spoke of places where entire islands are made of bright, fluorescent coral! Never have I seen such a sight as this. We are surrounded by water. That part is somewhat frightening, for swimming has never been my strong point.

Still, though, I am glorying in the warmth and sunlight after days spent in hyperspace. I did not realize just how much I missed the sun. At home, during the summer, at least, the sun is nearly always shining, and during the winter, it is almost never shining. I left at the beginning of summer when everything is in full bloom, and the air is filled with the sounds of the birds.

As the year progresses on Meridi, it becomes drier and drier, until all but the hardies of plants hide within themselves, waiting for the winter rains to start. Even this time is beautiful, in a much more earthy way. Because rain is scarce in the summer months, dust settles in a thick layer upon everything, giving the world a reddish tint. The animals pant for water all the time, and the sun beats down upon the ground, drying it to nearly rock. By this time, all the crops in the fields will be knee-high, and almost in ear. This is the most dangerous time for farmers, as this is when beasts become daring, and fences no longer hold them back. Also, dust kills the crops if a farmer is not careful.

Finally, just as you begin to think you can take no more of the monotonous, dry, dustiness, you wake up one morning, and realize the sun is not shining into your bedroom, as it has for the past month, roasting you in your bed. You leap from your bed, and peer out the window to see a cloud, grey and heavy with moisture, all but covering the sun. As you watch, it crawls closer and closer, until finally it is upon you, and a torrent of rain so thick you cannot see three feet in front of your nose envelopes you.

This is the beginning of the winter rains ? the wet season. Hardly a day goes by, but buckets of water are dumped from the sky at this time of year. The farmers no longer fear that their crops will get dried out: rather, the fear is that the fields will be flooded, and the crops drowned.

As children, Sara and I often snuck out of the house in these downpours, running about barefoot in the yard until soaked clothes clung to our wet bodies, and our hair dripped water, and our feet were brown with mud. We were always scolded for our misbehavior, but there was always a slight smile on Mother?s face as she chided us, and on Father?s, as he reinforced Mother?s scolding, for they remembered when they used to sneak out in the rain, to glory in the wetness of it all.

But I am rambling again. Funny how something like a sunny day can take me such distances.

Mercedes did not explain to me what our purpose on Mon Calamari is, though I think it has something to do with the words spoken in Bail Organa?s parlor. She and Andras have told me to enjoy myself, see what I can see, and stay out of trouble.

There is a wandering musician coming this way. I think I will go listen.

 

Finally, just as you begin to think you can take no more of the monotonous, dry, dustiness, you wake up one morning, and realize the sun is not shining into your bedroom, as it has for the past month, roasting you in your bed. You leap from your bed, and peer out the window to see a cloud, grey and heavy with moisture, all but covering the sun. As you watch, it crawls closer and closer, until finally it is upon you, and a torrent of rain so thick you cannot see three feet in front of your nose envelopes you.

Loved the imagery in this post. Lovely!

 

Awesome post.

I loved the memory of playing in the rain with his sister. Very cute.

Thanks, as always, for the PM.

 

I like the description of his home. makes the place really come to lif- and it's not perfect. I like that a lot. *wants sneak out into the rain, too*

I can understand him. You never really think about how it is in hyperspace, when there is nothing but blurry blue when you look out. Enviroment just seems so normal to us.

Lovely update!

 

The description/flashback to the dry and wet seasons was vivid. I love the worlds that you've created. Beautiful job.

what a description!
As children, Sara and I often snuck out of the house in these downpours, running about barefoot in the yard until soaked clothes clung to our wet bodies, and our hair dripped water, and our feet were brown with mud. We were always scolded for our misbehavior, but there was always a slight smile on Mother?s face as she chided us, and on Father?s, as he reinforced Mother?s scolding, for they remembered when they used to sneak out in the rain, to glory in the wetness of it all.


Sorry I fell behind when I was in London. All caught up now.