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Weekly Contest #363
She stood above the river, alone, listening to its low rush below. Warm air, heavy sky. Rain was coming; she could smell it in the air. The first sprinkle touched her cheek, cool and clean. She didn’t move. She let the cold circle spread across her skin as the storm gathered. She had run until her legs burned, until the village was only a memory behind her. Three men shouted, fighting, grabbing at her as if she were something to win. She hated violence. She hated the way it changed people. Now she was miles away, in land she didn’t know. Th...
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