Wilom tried to count the people for a while, to try and get some inkling of how much time might be passing. He never seemed to be able to count much past twenty, though — for some reason as soon as he thought he had an accurate count, he’d remember someone else he’d taken, or realise that one he’d counted had actually been from long, long before, and he’d have to start again. Continue reading “Generations”
Friendship
Wilom did not sleep, so he had difficulty telling how many days or weeks had passed. They crossed the River again and again. The ferryman left most people for Wilom to fetch, except for the very young. Continue reading “Friendship”
Whimsy and Metaphor 