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Weekly Contest #99
The summer she turned eleven, her parents moved her bed from the loft to the back porch where she could catch any breeze. One morning the wind chime was silent, and the great heavy water urn was motionless on its chain. She slipped her bare feet to the worn boards of the porch and pushed her mosquito net aside to see the rain barrel at the corner of the porch, and beyond, in the backyard, the laundry lines and chicken coop. A pullet had laid her first egg two days before, and Mara was curious to see if she'd laid another. Lifting her blue ...
Salvi lit a candle and then, with a last look at the sky, she stepped through the door. She followed the dusty tunnel downward into air that had a different, fetid staleness. She held her candle high to illuminate the tunnel. To her right was darkness. To her left, far ahead, she could see daylight filtering down. A shallow gully cut down the center of the passage, with bits of rotting detritus that she surmised had been washed there by the last rain. She left her first chalk mark at the base of the ramp: an arrow that pointed the way she wa...
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