Spoiler – Bast prologue – once edited; twice sworn at.

What you will find beneath is the Prologue to my latest one, “Bast”. I have run over it a couple of times, and there is certainly much work to do. All aside, this is the opening, and essentially the “all” of the yarn. Let me know what you think and what improvements can be made.

SN xxx

She is five years old, and she is not enjoying herself.

She had been immensely enjoying herself, but the influence of her parents have stolen that snippet of brightness away from her previously mundane existence.

Her five year old brain does not understand the enormity of the situation, nor the danger she has inadvertently placed herself and her family in.

Semi concussion raising confusion in her wee elfin like head. Pain is slowly beginning to register, and the tin taste of blood is beginning to make itself known.

Rolling onto her left side, she can see the feet of her parents close together, facing one another. A hushed, excited, conversation was going on above her, her parents close to frantic.

With the floor of dirt, bulrush and old straw now beneath her tiny feet, she lifts her left hand to the side of her face, tentatively prodding an area of numbness with slender undernourished fingers. Sticky warmth is found, “why” fills her head. Her parents love her don’t they?

Her filthy feet are now leaving the floor; her mother lifts her into a love filled embrace; holding her tightly.

Father begins to yell and storm within the small round hut she calls home. He rants and rages; he catches his head in the thatch of the roof in a low spot, and is angered further.
He then calls her “demon”, then “witch”, then “devil”. Her crying mother continues to hold her ever so tight; she can smell the smoke of the cooking fire in her hair.

Now Mother is running through the low door. Outside it is grey skies; the smell of snow and the bite of cold. She can still hear Father yelling as mother flees, cursing her, for what?

Can’t all little girls fly?

♠

As always, click the picture of the tattooed lass for a tunes. Augie March this time.

SN