Cool smooth slate floors, pressed faces, lying flat, writhing bodies in playful tones. Laughter and lightness.
M
Slate broke over Gilbert’s head, laughter stilled on his lips, orphan’s anger at poking her when she’s finally started to find a place, no boy gets to take it from her.
The grey of the plumes was mottled, heavy and thick with roiling sun-blot. The heat, unbearable earlier, had simmered enough to be traversable–though with no small measure of misery–and though the footpath was overrun with debris, the going was steady and clear.
Her steps crunched sharply through the clearing, the sound cut short by the oppressive ashen ceiling. In the uneven light, the slate skittering out from under her boots looked almost like a shifting river. If only they could be so lucky.
Bending carefully, she slipped a finger beneath a shard. Its surface was, for all she wished it weren’t, beautiful–smooth-grained, sleekly patterned, reminiscent of the carved patios of the town four miles south. Its edge was sharp.
She rose to her full height, taking the piece with her, and surveyed the blackened borders of the crippled forest. With time, and care, they would recover.
Cool smooth slate floors, pressed faces, lying flat, writhing bodies in playful tones. Laughter and lightness.
Slate broke over Gilbert’s head, laughter stilled on his lips, orphan’s anger at poking her when she’s finally started to find a place, no boy gets to take it from her.
The grey of the plumes was mottled, heavy and thick with roiling sun-blot. The heat, unbearable earlier, had simmered enough to be traversable–though with no small measure of misery–and though the footpath was overrun with debris, the going was steady and clear.
Her steps crunched sharply through the clearing, the sound cut short by the oppressive ashen ceiling. In the uneven light, the slate skittering out from under her boots looked almost like a shifting river. If only they could be so lucky.
Bending carefully, she slipped a finger beneath a shard. Its surface was, for all she wished it weren’t, beautiful–smooth-grained, sleekly patterned, reminiscent of the carved patios of the town four miles south. Its edge was sharp.
She rose to her full height, taking the piece with her, and surveyed the blackened borders of the crippled forest. With time, and care, they would recover.