I’ve been really digging the apocalyptic stories lately, although “drought” is a rather depressing word, so it wouldn’t exactly conjure something good. Jen and Desi agreed this was an adventure they would go on. Erika was fine to pass it up.
drought (my word), slippery, bird
“The birds all disappeared with the rain,” the old man’s voice was ominous, and
sent chills sliding over Tam’s skin, like cold, slippery snakes.
He tried to edge around the dirty, hunched figure at the side of the road, but
fate had other plans for Tam, and the sound of pounding hoof beats made him
lunge for safety out of the path of the frantic rider. Coughing and choking on
the dust left behind, Tam saw the old man’s bright eyes trained on him, and gave
him a fright. He could’ve sworn the old man was blind.
“Do you remember before the drought?” the man asked.
Tam shook his head. He was only five and thirty and the rain had been gone since
his father was a little boy.
“I remember,” the man said, a wistful look in his eyes. “I remember green.”
Tam nodded, and stood up. He dug around in his pocket for a coin, figuring the
man had shared his little spot on the side of the road so Tam didn’t get
trampled, and that was worth a penny or two. He held out the money, and the man
stared at him for a long time before reaching out. Bony fingers closed over
Tam’s wrist, and the man pulled him down so they were nose to nose.
“Only the black can bring back the rain, but first he must be found,” the man
said in a fierce whisper, then pushed Tam away.
Tam stumbled back, and when he looked at the man again, he was hunched over his
begging cup, white, sightless eyes staring out at the dusty street.
Would you go on that adventure? Why or why not?