Her name -
Currant.
She remembered, vaguely, having changed it to that many months ago. Many prime-numbered months. What was her name before Currant? She didn't remember that...it was too many months. Too many days. A Zilloween had came and went from her name change to now so how could she remember?
She remembered, though, that she had changed her name to Currant, because she loved currants. They could get her anything she wanted. An icon of her favorite giant - Cosma, flighty and floaty. Cosma was a wanderer, just like herself. A doll to hug...she preferred Ayn Rand. A cubimal of Gwendolyn, also floaty, pale and beautiful and hiding in the darkest places.
One day she found herself in an unfamiliar place, not Groddle or Mazza'la or anywhere else she knew. She did not remember how she had gotten there, but like Cosma, she didn't remember much. She was surrounded with grass, and it looked like Groddle but was not, and there was a little house.
Her house, she realized.
A little bit beyond was a pole. No - a post. A signpost...only empty. She entered the name of one of her friends and then was transported to that house.
The yard there was bigger, and the house there was a magnificent mansion instead of her little cottage, and there was a garden filled with glorious red tomatoes.
She picked a plant, stripping it clean of the tomatoes, and then looked at the messy plot and felt guilty. Sorry. She tended the plot, watered it, and fed tomatoes to a nearby piggy until it plopped. Then she planted the seeds.
Good enough, she reasoned with herself. All she had taken was a little time, no? If the friend arrived late enough the garden would look exactly like it should.
Her friend had more glitchen on his signpost, and she traveled...
Her name was Currant, and she loved currants, and as she traveled she found she could open a meat collector and take out the meat. So she did. All she had taken, after all, was a little time; the collectors would fill up again.
She took herbs and crops and re-planted. All a little time. That was all she had taken.
Then she got tired of re-planting, but she did hoe and water the lots. Still but a little time, and a single seed. All they had lost, really, was a single seed. And after all, if they were going to leave it out in the open, well, she could take! She loved currants. These were currants.
Rubeweed - purple - silvertongue...potatoes - corn - onions...Just a few seeds. Sometimes she left the plots untended. Sometimes she opened up all the collectors and took all the meat. Sometimes -
But who cared. It wasn't as if the owners could complain!