It was now the third time that Wilom had caught the ferryman watching him. In all his memory, Wilom had never gotten the impression that the ferryman was examining him so closely, and especially not so pointedly. Continue reading “Consideration”
Combustion
Of the couple, the man came first. He was sitting against the cliffs, back pressed into a corner. His knees were drawn up against him, his arms holding them securely in place. Continue reading “Combustion”
Lost and Found
The lighthouse keeper met them at the bank.
“I have one for you,” he said, handing the soldier over to Wilom. Nearly literally; he was holding the soldier with one arm wrapped around his back and under his arm to support him. Continue reading “Lost and Found”
Mirror, Mirror
Wilom would have known the kid’s type anywhere. He sat on the beach, arms crossed and resting on his folded legs, leaning back against the cliff face. Continue reading “Mirror, Mirror”
Standing Watch
The young woman standing on the beach had a dark mark on her throat. A cut, not a hanging. Wilom might have guessed mugging, but her clothes were unusual — made for practicality and nothing else. She wore a thick jacket over a plain shirt, and similarly thick trousers. Her shape was nearly entirely disguised under them. The un-light washed out all the colours, but it didn’t look like there were many to begin with. Those weren’t civilian clothes. Continue reading “Standing Watch”
Shades and Colours
Wilom had to coax the young man into the boat. He cried the whole way, though he tried to disguise it. Wilom made a few attempts at encouraging conversation. The young man made no response except for a weak smile, but that was enough. He got off at the other side, and didn’t look back or wave goodbye. Continue reading “Shades and Colours”
Duty
Wilom was starting to grow uncomfortably familiar with the dark marks of hangings. Continue reading “Duty”
Opinions
The woman on the beach looked stunned, half-dazed. She stood unsteadily and looked up at him with the expression of someone who wasn’t really seeing what her eyes were pointing at.
Wilom knelt down a respectful distance away, and didn’t stare at her. People often came to the River like that, especially those who had died violently. Continue reading “Opinions”
A Second Opinion
“Ferryman?” Wilom asked, as the bank drew close.
“Yes?”
“Would it be alright if I got out of the boat for a little while? I want to go for a walk, and I’d like to talk to the lighthouse keeper if I could.” Continue reading “A Second Opinion”
Hung Up
As Wilom walked over to the woman on the bank, he listed facts about her as quickly as possible, trying to notice as much as possible, to practice. Nervous, he could tell. Hanged, judging by the dark mark on her neck. He’d seen enough of them. But there was something different about her. She seemed restless, and she definitely hadn’t been waiting in a jail cell for days before her execution. Continue reading “Hung Up”
Whimsy and Metaphor 