The autumn air slipped in between the torn armpits of Balon’s tunic, chilling the sweat trickling down his sides. He wrapped his arms around his body and looked around the wood. The pale white trees maintained their impartial pose, naked branches shuddering in the wind. Balon looked at the sun sliding down the horizon. If…
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Ada watched the water slip between her fingers. She wondered if she stopped fighting it if her fingers would slip into the pool and mix with the runoff. She could yield to older, greater forces than she could contain. Would she be better off melted into a puddle? She could float along, doing her part…
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