But since I had been given my gift I did not fear what stood in front of me. As his body touched mine it fell to the floor covered in a carpet of needles.1
I saw the familiar clearing with my father’s chopping block and the axe he used for splitting wood on the ground beside it. Home. I ran through the trees, the wind in my ears, my breath leaving my throat in heavy huffs, my feet slapping the earth beneath the trees of these woods, these woods that had stood between myself and my home for so long.2
My feet, wearing their newfound bottomed shoes, pressed gently across the soils as not to wake the men clamoring upwards. But I still felt a shadow trail at my footsteps that did not feel like my own. As I walked faster the shadow moved behind me as well, sometimes touching my bare skin with sodden ground. 3
I called out,"Help, please, help!" The white crane grazed the skin of my pursuer and held my shirt between its beak. 4
Comments
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Wonderful descriptions and opening hook. Felt a slight panic when reading, bringing forth a need to help. Strange but very good.
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