Prairie Prose

Hi All: This is the story that I wrote during our time of reflection and writing and all things Prairie.

 

Katarina stood in the middle, surrounded by tall green and tan grass, swaying and intermingling with the small areas of differently colored flowers. The stalks of grass leaned and touched her, caressing as it swept over and away. She breathed slowly in the scent of marigolds and hay as she tried to notice her body. Notice her breath as it slowed down to match the rhythm of the space surrounding her. She breathed in and out and let the wind roll over her body, pushing with gentle fierceness.

She lifted her long skirts up and collected them around her hips, feeling the sun on her legs. The grass pricked at her soft, un-toned thighs. The silver buttons on her long, wrist length sleeves reflected the sun back into her eyes as she unbuttoned them and slipped out of her shirt.

Some of the rules and regulations Ms. Margaret had recited to her, as if she had said them so many times that they had become engraved onto her brain, came back to her:

“No idling in the ice cream parlor, no lip stain, no mascara. You are not allowed to marry or engage in any….immoral behavior. If you wish to marry, you must find employment elsewhere. You are allowed to wear bright colors, but your skirts must not hit any higher than two inches above the ankle.”

She had said this while standing next to the front door of the small one room school house. She held the key in her hand, tapping it softly against her palm.

Katarina let her shirt fall to the ground. She began to untie her multiple layers of skirts. Grasshoppers vibrated around her, releasing long stretches of screeching followed by short, stagnant, bursts of noise.

She stepped out of her boots and over the puddle of skirts. Her under things hung loosely against her skin without the constrictions of the outer layers. Lifting her hand up the shield her eyes, she glanced around at the surrounding nothingness. The silence of the prairie forced her to listen.

She took one long deep breath and removed the rest of her undergarments. She blushed when the grass touched her. The physical contact was jarring and she pictured the man who, besides the tall grass and flowers around her, was the only one to see her this way once before. He had smelled like burnt wood and chocolate. She never did find out why.

She walked away slowly, grasping and pulling at the grass as she went. Her hair whipped around her face, free from the hair pins she had dropped somewhere along the path.