Enga mellom fjella

Micro 100 #14 "Salt" [371] 187 words

In the Land of Salt, the scaphe indicated 2 hours before noon. Saramy thought: Soon it would be too hot to work in the saltern. Let the Sun do it's job.

It always did.

The stone circle around the center of town kept track of the passing year, indicating that the Season of Cold would come soon, even if the temperatures were still toasty.

Saramy peered at them as he headed home to his hovel. It wasn't much but he marvelled in its antiquity, tracing faint figures caved into the walls as if they could speak and share their secrets. At least it was cool underground. He had so much work to do. "History of Salt" needed copying from notes that would crumble and fade, to clay that wouldn't. Once baked into tiles they would adorn town walls that kept history present before them.

Would they speak to those who come here a thousand years from now?

Saramy started impressing the clay, adding doodles, and translations into the 5 languages he knew, always signing it with the town's motto: "We come from salt we return to salt".