Tesca and Corla dashed along the deer trail contouring the west side of the ridge. Tesca set the pace out front carrying a shield and Corla followed hefting the spear. Their sisterly rhythm kept each girl’s foot placing and branch dodging well timed and as effortless as reading a book.
Not as much time to get this off the ground this morning as I’d have liked. How is it other people write like the wind?
Day 309
It’s been busy. I’ll try to get my groove on… It was not right. And it made Tesca realize everything was now possible. Pure sunlight, beginning in the bluest heavens, coursed through the yellow leaves. Autumn rose to its zenith today at this elevation. The supremely yellow leaves dyed the light golden [...]
In Colorado it would be cold. The wind would be blowing. There might even be snow. I’d have lit the oil lamp and tried to resurrect the summer of ‘92 with a mug of chocolate and a book. I’d have wedged into a corner because the light from the lamp wouldn’t come at the [...]
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