You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.” ((How do you respond?))
Looking around with a confused stare, the girl steps back cautiously.
"Me? I'm no one, ma'am. I've just come here looking for work."
She waits a few moments but when no reply comes, she chews at her lips anxiously before continuing.
"My names is Isabel Flores. I've been working as a maid since I was a child, first with my mother and sister and then on my own once I came of age. I have over fifteen years of experience and You'll never find your sheets whiter than when I have had my hand at them."
She scuffs the dusty earth with her toe, thinking hard for another moment.
"I'm not sure what else there is to say. I love to read and as a child, my father taught me to make stories on the wall with shadow puppets. He died when I was only ten, which is why my mother began teaching me her trade at such a young age.
I've always worked my hardest, my mother taught me to take pride in everything I do. She always liked to say that anything worth doing is worth doing right."
Please, ma'am. I just really need a position. Anywhere will do so long as the wage is liveable. My last employer lost everything in a fire or I would still be working there now."
Her eyes turn misty as she returns her gaze again to the old woman. "They were such kind people... A family like that doesn't come along very often for young servicers...."
