Two of Three
Anita’s hands lost their grip on anything but air. She swayed, but she seized rope rail before the cliff fell away under her feet. The darkness seemed to hit a wall a long, long way across from her. She tripped back from the edge, hyperventilating.
The sky flashed. Anita’s hands flew to shield her eyes against the symbol lit on the opposite cliff. It was like two triangles kissing or a bowtie. A long, deep note sounded and lingered, a horn of alarm.
“The rune of emergence. They’re coming.”

I thought I had escaped
from chains of lies made by gossiping tongues
I was having fun, till I saw in your eye
what you were going to say later on about me
I swear it isn't true
but people hear what they want to
At least I won't be there
to be met with awkward stares
Where they once held open arms, will there be only polite hellos?
Or perhaps a wounding whisper, meant for me
slicing deep,
wounding whispers meant for me.