Before the Harvest

100 Words of Speculation written over a background of fountain pen and printed text

It’s dark when I slip out, yet neighbours already fill the streets. Letting myself awaken naturally was always a risk: but someone hearing my alarm and realising I meant to run seemed worse.

Only fields lie between me and the forest. If I sprint, they might hear me, but I’ll make it before sunrise.

Moments later, I hear pounding boots. Stones bite my feet, but I race on.

I leap the barrier around the Mother Tree, then turn.

Elders House and Hill stand at the barrier, rocks ready.

My fitness and willingness proven, I offer myself for a good crop.

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