The Fawn and the Turtles (5)


Inspiration hits with a flash, stories written on the go. A rumble of laughter and the tale is heard only in echoes. The wind blows me in a new direction. Whom shall I visit next?

Tamsin knew sleep could bring healing, but surely this was something more. She'd had cuts and scrapes and, moreover, she had been desperately hungry and thirsty. She felt full and satisfied now and did not even feel the need to move her bowels. Had she foraged without realizing it?

No. I'm the narrator and I know best. This was something else entirely. Tamsin had had help from above.

Tamsin, overhearing me, raised her head to the sky, squinting in the cold sunlight. What had the voice meant? she wondered. She could see nothing in the air but a flock of butlerflies, black against the harsh brightness. Was there perhaps something in the heavens that protected the innocent and the lost? But there was nothing to see. Mother Nature, if she was anything more than a myth, seemed absent and uncaring to her. Her family had been obliterated by a Sherman tank driven by a belligerence enthusiast whose eyes had been infested with tiny arthropods, and her best friend Filene had stormed out of the woods over a card game.

Comments (1 so far!)

Average reader rating 4.00/5

Mighty-Joe Young LOA

Mighty-Joe Young LOA

Ok you went all terry Pratchett nice touch i appreciatte the levity

  • #1656 Posted 5 years ago
  • 0
  • 4 out of 5

Inspired by (sequel to):

It was a long time before Tamsin's young soul could decide whether it would stay with her, or depart…

The Fawn and the Turtles (4)
  • Published 5 years ago.
  • Story viewed 4 times and rated 1 times.

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