Much as the chapter that became the Forward, the Lyte Brigade epilogue began life as a Daily Writing, part of me is thinking of reworking this one into a prologue for Charge of the Lyte Brigade.
But I’ve never done a prologue before, so I’m not sure I’m really feeling that idea.
In the meantime, I figured I could at least that an opportunity to repost a Daily Writing you may have missed the first time around back in February.
Being short stinks.
However, in Pela’s experience, the solution is obvious: get the Tall People to help. It’s advice that works as well in adventuring as everyday life.
Pela finds herself astride Falcata’s tanned, muscular shoulders as the two members of the Lyte Brigade help Sally Lyte reach down something from a tall shelf — a struggle Pela knows all to well. She hates shelves: be they library, store, or kitchen.
Continental shelves are alright, she supposes.
Pela glances back at Sally from her perch on Falcata’s shoulders. She points to one of the jars. “This one?” she asks.
Sally shakes her head. “No. That’s the basil. It tastes like socks.”
“This one?” Pela asks, pointing to the next jar.
Sally nods. “Yeah. That’s the cookie jar. I need the cookies for my tea party with Annie.”
“Okay,” Pela says, reaching for the jar.
Once Pela has the jar safely secured, Falcata goes down to a knee, allowing Pela to dismount and hand the cookie jar to Sally.
“There you go, Sally,” Pela says.
Sally grins. “Thanks so much!” She holds up her beloved bunny stuffy. “Count Bunnyescu says thanks, too.”
“Anything for another short girl,” Pela says, her enthusiasm slightly dampened by the fact that Sally is already almost taller than she is.
“I want to be as tall as you one day, Falcata,” Sally tells the Amazon.
“Yeah,” Pela says quietly. “Me, too.”
“Do you want to join our tea party?” Sally asks.
Sally leads Pela and Falcata to her room, where Annie and a horde of stuffed animals are waiting.
“Annie,” Sally says. “This is Falcata and Pela. They’re in my brother’s guild.”
“Hi. I’m Annie,” the pink-haired girl says, glancing over to Pela and Falcata before beginning to look literally anywhere else but their faces.
Sally has Pela and Falcata sit at the table, sets down the cookie jar before pouring tea and handing out cookies.
Pela looks over to Falcata and decides that the Amazon must be having a bad time.
She can barely fit her towering frame in Sally’s room, let alone at a child-sized table. She can only hold her teacup with two fingers.
“I think my chair is too small,” Falcata mutters, having to hug her knees almost to her chin to fit.
Pela, on the other hand, is feeling fine. It’s a little embarrassing that furniture and dinnerware sized for a small Gardian child fit a young adult Goblin perfectly. On the other hand, she fits.
For one of the rare few times in her life, Pela isn’t the one who’s the wrong size.
She reaches to give Falcata a gentle, consoling pat on the shoulder. Being too big is never something she’s experienced, but she is moved with sympathy by the Amazon’s plight of being the wrong size.
“Pela,” Falcata asks gently. “Are you crying?”
“I’m just so happy,” Pela says. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve sat on a chair this comfortable.”
She looks over to Sally.
“Can I have another cookie?”
“This is the best day of my life!”
All my other short scenes that began life as Daily Writing exercises are here:
And a reminder that as of this week, Forward, the Lyte Brigade has been completed and can be read in its entirety here:
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