Marinette woke to the sounds of the rooster crowing.
The loud, abrasive cawing shivered down her spine until she had to get up to feed him. As he screamed, she climbed up from her mattress on the dirty floor.
Her back forever sore from the lumpy mattress, she stretched her arms over her head and rolled her shoulders. Even covered in old sheets, it was better than sleeping on the hard ground.
She tugged her long raven hair into loose pigtails on either side of her head and grabbed the feed bag from the hook next to the barn-style door.
The sun was barely coming over the horizon, but the harsh cries of the rooster pierced the silence anyway. Soft cricket chirrups filled the air with music.
The horses in the open-faced barn swished their tails tiredly to fend off swarms of flies. Pigs and goats slept in the stalls next to them, grazing on the remnants of half-finished meals.
The female pig, Betty, was pregnant and had developed an ever more ferocious appetite as her stomach grew. Their heifer needed to be milked.
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