The man slumped against a tree, propping himself up, preventing a slide to the ground. Bone weary, he looked back down the hill, peering through the trees. He was almost too tired to strain his ears: where were his pursuers? Enough was enough, he could do no more. He caught the sound of water tumbling over stones, away to the left. More than a rill, less than a river: exhausted, he filled his canteen, drained it, filled it again. The toddler in the papoose stirred but did not cry out. With new hope, new strength, he continued with their escape.
© David Jesson, 2019
“I’m done” Jess spoke quietly.
“But you said …”
“I would give it 6 months – yes. But you were only prepared to give it 6 weeks. That told me all I needed to know about your level of commitment. I’ve tried, I’ve worked hard – really hard – and now you think … No, no more. I’ve done enough, I’ve given enough. And you haven’t.”
“But …” Tim’s voice cracked.
“It’s time you left Tim. I’ve changed the locks and booked movers for your stuff. It goes into storage unless you give them a new address by Friday. Goodbye.”
© Debra Carey, 2019
Her ma loved her, but born with a voice of crow-song, Naomi roams the forest alone, eating as she can and cawing her plaint. A fine young knight home victorious from the Holy Land hunts each dawn, his aim ever true until a harsh song causes his arrow to fly wild. It punctures Naomi’s throat and, salt tears spilling, he removes the barb and salves her wound with a kiss. The lovely lass arises to speak with human voice, and he vows his eternal love. Is love enough? How she yearns to fly off and rob a sparrow nest.
© Cecily Winter, 2019