No on in the village had slept since the beast appeared. For the first few days no one really noticed. There were bonfires at night and the old people told stories. There was even singing. But then a feeling of alarm seemed to grow in everyone, until someone noticed that the beast wandered off into the tall grass every day at dusk, taking their sleep and their dreams with it.
They selected Tonkit from the young men. His brother, older and wiser, told him it was the only way. And now Tonkit struggled, trying to move silently though the tall grass on his knees, holding the large stone in one hand. His eyes were hot and the hair his head seemed to tingle. The closer he got the harder it was to keep his eyes open.
2 comments:
Are you inventing a new literary format here? Certainly not short stories.
Are these nano stories? An exercise in delivering the richest possible content in the fewest possible words?
I like it.
Glad you like. Like the old gal says, "Art is long but life is short and your waffles are getting cold."
Post a Comment