Tag: come back

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Day 119: Armburster

Test pilot, Dennis Armburster, surveyed the latest XO he was about to review.  It looked great.  Dusted black with menacing angles.  The anterior skewed hypermasculine with a snake scale motif.  Gear mounts were rigged for flexibility but favored the favorable lateral lines.  The the upper posterior sported fins–first he’d seen in his lengthy career.  Made it look like [one of those religious paintings] except unholy.  This suit looked like it could fuck you up.  Which means it couldn’t.

"Doc."

"Arm, I know what you’re thinking.  It’s what I first thought too.  Suit up and be wrong for the first time."

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Day 103: The Balance of Marrow

I’m pressing the crescant to his neck and he’s saying words like magic.  Words that feel like they could unbreak a jar, maybe raise the dead.

"The best waters are swift and shallow."  He’s trembling as he chants, "The best waters are swift and shallow."  I realize he doesn’t believe the words, doesn’t trust their power.  This makes me angry.

I gave up my daughters and ruined my wife.  I burned my parent’s home and salted their orchard.  I eat the same meal and swallow the same wine.  Every day I guard this gate from nothing and no one comes.  I even cut my hair.  And he doesn’t believe.  I did all of this and he still fears these words have no meaning.  He rakes at might unyielding arm.  He pleads again, "Please, please.  The best waters are swift and shallow."

In an instant I decide answering this coward is not worth the trades I made.  I’m going to release this crux, let the prophesy fail, go back to my cold hearth.  He must know his death is next because I feel him swallow through the contact of my weapon on his flesh.  His tremors subside.  He makes his final breath.  He’ll beg for his life of course.

Then I feel like I am falling, like something I can’t explain has happened, like soon this something will hurt very much, but for now I just know something I can’t stop is coming.  He’s kicked me in the groin and I am on the ground inhaling air, but unable to exhale.

"I said, ‘The best waters are swift and shallow!’  I’ll be inside when you are ready to complete the couplet."

Eventually I’ll smile at my son’s return, but for now I’ll just puke.

Word count: 293

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Day 101: Third Valley from the Right Rendezvous

Jeremiah Hardsock pulled his nearly dead brother, Wendell Christopher Hardsock, through the chill marsh waters.  Jeremiah hoped the cold would slow WC’s bleeding.  He repeated a single thought over and over and end to end: this has got to be faster.  He no longer felt certain.

The broadly fletched arrow poking straight out of WC’s chest caught Jeremiah’s attention again.  He thanked God that WC was in such good health–he’d make it for sure–and prayed that leaving the shaft unbroken wouldn’t work against him.  The air turned cold overnight making his hands too numb to snap the arrow shorter without worrying the wound.  Between a puddle of more blood and leaving the shaft intact he’d chosen to leave it alone.  Thankfully WC wore his capote and slid through the knee-deep water and wet grass easily on the strong woolen coat.  Jeremiah had only needed to loop WC’s possibles bag under his arms and bind his arms with a leather thong. [too much logistics].  The water lagged the temperature drop; the deeper spots even warmer.   Strips of fog tore away from the marsh.

Word count: 186