Issue Twelve (Oct 2009)
I must have started crossing over to the grazing-meadow as soon as I could walk, because I can remember toddling along the causeway, my small fingers twined in Nousie’s fleece to hold myself upright, and Dadda shouting at Zeek, the bellwether, to be sure and bring the flock home before nightfall. Maybe Dadda wasn’t really my father; he never said.
Dawn, and stained shimmers stream over the dew-fresh grass, but for once Lavender does not join her sisters.
The clock in the hall struck twelve midnight with a solemn gong, nearly startling Leslie Wong into dropping her book. Rubbing her eyes sleepily, Leslie gave an enormous yawn before she decided that she needed some caffeine to stay alert.
As she’s come to understand it, the gig is a joke. She was alive, once, a long time ago, but that’s behind her now, and the water is as deep and safe as ever. The only change, perhaps, is that swimming is easier, and she rarely feels hungry.
Cheresa could smell the delicious scents of pancit and lumpia, some of her favorite foods, wafting through the air and she followed her nose into the kitchen. Her mother stood at the counter, chopping carrots into slices with a large knife while something sizzled on the stove.