Impulse
Disclaimer: Don't own Harvest Moon.
Author: BlackGold Ficcies Inc.
Rating: K
Summary: It was just an impulse. Really.
Warnings: None
Pairings: None
I have to write every so often to appease my muses. Unfortunatly, most of the ideas they supply would end up being way too long for me to stick with. So, when this idea popped into my head, I decided to write it down, since it was pretty short.
The story itself is set at the beginning of MFoMT.
It was just an impulse. Really, it was.
Never mind that she'd never had an impulse in her life.
She'd worked in a factory that made fortune cookies; a friend of her father's was a manager there. She was a good employee: hardworking, courteous, and never missed a day.
So why?
She'd had a nice boy--not boyfriend--who'd lived in the next apartment. He attended school in the city, and he took her out every so often. They were always polite, even when they had to turn down the occasional invitation to dinner.
So why?
Her parents were great people, both successful in their trades. Her mother was a professional seamstress, and her father worked for the newspaper. They'd gotten her a puppy to commemorate her leaving the nest.
But why? Why had she clung to that ad for a farm in a far-off place?
The work was boring, repetitive. She'd always enjoyed the fortunes in restaurants, but she couldn't possibly follow all the prophecies she saw in a day. 'A great destiny awaits you.' 'You are rich in mind and spirit.' Well, she supposed, if the work gave her anything, it certianly gave her a laugh.
That boy had moved into the city from some country town. They'd shared a mutual interest, and he always listened to her talk. Did he do that for that girl from his hometown, too? That girl had suddenly decided to visit, and he was flustered that his girlfriend was all the way out here. She was a perfectly agreeable girl, and was fun to talk to. It was a good thing, because he wasn't listening to her the day that girl visited.
Her parents had sensed her melancholy, but, practical beings they are, figured that she'd get over it. Her parents were all about practicality. Her mother didn't send her any nice dresses, since they weren't suited to her line of work, and her father got her a newspaper subscription since she ought to know what going on around her.
It must have been an impulse. There was no other reason to pick up the paper, to read the ad, to make the call, to sell her belongings for money to buy the farm.
Yes, it was all an impulse.