Part 16

Morning dawned cool and fresh, just the opposite of my pent-up and feverish thoughts. I lay in my cot a few moments after waking because I knew I wouldn’t be able to look Bart in the eye without it all coming out.

When I did get up, though, I found I had a respite. Bart and some of the others were making sweeps outside the camp, checking and setting a few traps to give us fresh meat supply.

Craigin was already up and Gern’s bedroll was rumpled and body-less.

The cliffs of the sea, stunted and black
stretch crookedly in a line between
the land and the sea. And me,
I am well content
with windowsills collecting dust,
and apples every fall 'til come famine or flood.

A dissatisfied grin, a shambled gate:
the cliffs are strung out like skeleton teeth.
Or the teeth of a rake left out in the rain
for too long. And I chose
to stride one side, plant my seeds and feet
rather than water, and drifting for weeks.

 
 
 
 
Island of the Kahts
 
 
Being the account of one of grand adventures of Torinnir Erris Vongelli, in which is recorded all the prevalent, relevant, little-known, and/or otherwise obscure information of his great heroism and even greater handsomeness.

~I cannot believe it's been so long since I posted this story!  Almost three months!  Anyhow, here it is, and criticism is appreciated.~

                                                                          ELETA

                               "Is it by your discernment that the hawk soars?" -(Job 40:26)

CHAPTER ONE : Seahawk

His feet clapped the wooden plank down towards me.  “What be your name, boy?”  Frantically I thought.  “I don’t know.”  I don’t know!  Why had I said that, of all things?

“What on Sila’s earth means that?” he asked.