Prompt provided by @mariannewest for a 5 minute free write.
Dust swirled as the wind picked up the tumbleweed across the barren plain. The sun scorched down, sapping the remaining life out of any living thing that braved the parched earth. Rain had escaped these regions for months now. And the locals knew if this continued, it could mean their end.
Erin was too aware of this reality. Her crew survived on the harvest—any harvest. In order for her to have work for the season, there had to be a harvest that she could pick.
But this was far from her current reality.
How could she have money left to pay the bills and feed younger mouths? They were already escaping pennies, waiting for a speck in the sky, hoping to would provide moisture to bring life to their valley.
Dry, it remained. And so did their cupboards. And their stomachs.
Should she return home, where she knew the hills rolled in rich green? She couldn’t. There was nothing to return to. At least nothing worth reviving for this picker.