When I was young, very young, it was my mother who took care of me. She taught me to walk, and she was the one that informed my early actions. But, as I grew older, my father’s frustration changed how it was our family functioned. Understandably, what he wanted was a pupil. He would talk about this, and about hunting over many afternoons. It was because of him that I learned of my unusual nature . . .
Mariça is a short story series about a young woman, old enough to hunt, who would much rather spend her time exploring the mountains in the north. This brings a bit of trouble to her village, since she isn’t bringing home much food, but it also brings a lot of trouble to her when she gets caught by the residents of the mountain, and subsequently captured.
It’s the first time I’ve written on paper, and then translated it into typed text, so it should be a touch cleaner than previous stories. Despite this, I would still consider it a first draft for the most part. It’s less than 6 000 words long which puts it under the “short fiction” or “long short story” label depending on who you ask.