The House my Father Built: Part 9

The next day the sun crawled over the horizon to illuminate a miserable sight.  The fire had gone out while we slept and my stranger’s shivering rattled me awake.  It was once again raining and I couldn’t help but groan as I realized all the work I had to do today, no matter how horrible …

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The House my Father Built: Part 8

When I was finally able to pry open my eyes, panic tore through my head. The fear from the night before claiming my mind. And then I felt it. Even before my eyes could register the sun hanging in the sky above us, I could feel it. The rise and fall of his chest. All …

The House my Father Built: Part 7

It was the shivers that finally forced me awake. Racking me with wave after wave of spasms that consumed my whole body. I screamed, desperate to prove to myself that I had survived. As I saw my breath rising into the night air, relief washed over me. Warming me more in that instant than any …

The House my Father Built: Part 6

The cold cut through me like a knife.  Colder than when mother had disappeared in the snow, colder than anything I’d ever felt before.  I can’t remember now if it was the cold, the force of hitting the water, or maybe a combination of both, but all the air blasted out of my lungs in …

The House my Father Built: Part 5

The day things changed started off like any other, I suppose.  I had gone quite a ways down the river, humming to myself and getting lost in the usual memories of father and mother.  The sun had started high in the sky but had since begun to fall back toward the horizon.  The setting rays …

The House my Father Built: Part 4

That first week was hard. Much harder than I’d like to admit now. I struggled at first to build even a tiny fire alongside the creek to cook my silver fish, but after a few days following the river I had it down. I would start by scraping off fresh wood shavings that served to …

The House my Father Built: Part 3

I set out by following the creek past the spot where father gathered his clay and out into the unknown. At first I did it just cause I didn’t have any better plan, but then as my hunger grew it became a steady source of fish. I would wade in up to my ankles and …

The House my Father Built: Part 2

We didn’t talk much after that night.  It was an uncomfortable silence that would hang in the air whenever we were together. I worked to fill that void.  Little tasks around the house at first, but after a time I roamed further out to keep that silence at bay.  It was after one of those …

The House my Father Built: Part 1

The house my father built is old.  Much older today than it was.  I remember that winter now.  I couldn’t then.  It howled and cursed and made a mess just like mother did.  It was almost like they were competing.  And what a match it was!  The wind tore down the fence so father went …

The Horse Archer

The sun dips low in sky, a gentle breeze rolling through the steppe.  Soft whispers of trembling grass shattered suddenly by screams.  Desperate screeches of listless men barreling through the grass.  Their torn, ragged clothes and bodies clearly labeling them as another group of looters.  Their presence an ever rising certainty throughout the lands as …