Edemia World

Bob’s still immobile from the belly berry. He isn’t being a good sport about it. Yeah, he’s stuck in a corner and needs us to bring him food all the time, and he’s not getting paid because Grok refused to put it down as sick leave, but he complains like it was our fault. As if we’d force-fed him all seventy-three of those belly berries.

Besides, he was only completely immobile on the first day. After that he’s been able to sidle to the bathroom, and to the front window to ask for food or make fun of me.

Anyway, his... situation isn’t really that bad. Let me tell you about my typical day as a berry-elf. Getting dressed is always the first issue of the day. It’s always a struggle pulling clothes over a round body with short limbs, so resizing my ranger uniform helped only marginally. It always takes me a good twenty minutes.

I have breakfast with the goblins, but I have to sit on the floor because I can’t reach the table from my chair. It’s not so bad anymore though, since the very berry has worn off. Sometimes I can sit down for a drink. But sitting down for a full meal is still too much trouble.

And then I start my work day. Most people take having a waist for granted, and luckily for them they usually go through life without getting berryfied and landing a job that entails bending over to pick up worms. It was impossible at first; all I could do was spot the worms (that’s 90% of the job anyway, they’re mighty fast) and Joe would chase after them for me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without him. As soon as I got some of my mobility back I started picking up some of the slow ones. Now I can manage on my own, although Joe still offers to help when turnout is low.

Sometimes I get to run errands for Grok, like delivering crates to local buyers. Most of them know me, but once in a while I get a new address and I have to recite my whole story to the bewildered buyer. I used to hate it that I weirded people out, but now it’s kind of fun. When Bob is with me he butts in and goes “Yeah, I’m with a pink juiceball, long story, let’s get to business, okay?” It’s not the best way to keep a customer but it does save us time.

In the evening I usually do a quick sweep of the hut. All the going in and out from the field leaves a carpet of dirt on the floor, and since I’m usually the last in bed it always ends up being my job. Grok has this humongous ogre-sized broom that’s a pain to carry around but he’s probably never used. He wouldn’t let me cut it down because it was his father’s. But last month Joe got me these “sweeper shoes” that he found in a flea market in Clockwork City -- they’ve got broom bristles at the bottom, so I just put them on and waddle around the hut and kick the dirt out the back door.

So anyway, Bob is being a baby. I mean, it was a few bad berries and at least Grok let him rest it off; I had to go straight to work the day after getting very-berryfied. And I’ve been at it for months.

Which reminds me, I’m looking forward to getting my antidote. I’ve only got about two months left, then I can go back to my old job... if it’s still there. Oh, and I would have to get a new uniform. You could fit five normal Xanys into the one I have.