Blogathon 2006: Chapter 35.
written by Julie R. Neidlinger 5 comments link this post
Bliss wasn't going to make it. There was no question in his mind; she'd been without water for too long and appeared to have been roughed up. He knelt down beside her, holding her head, not speaking.
Her breath came in faint rasps, slower each time.
"You came," she said. One last look of her green eyes in his before she closed them. He thought she was gone, then.
"It was me," she whispered, her dry throat barely scraping out the words. "It was me at your camp that night, the one who ambushed you."
Dove didn't understand. He opened his mouth to speak but she continued.
"There never was any gold but as long as Solitaire thought there was..." her voice trailed away. "It was me who...took you to him. I wanted to find out what he was planning."
Her eyes stayed closed.
"I'm sorry. You must think...I sold you out."
"No," he said. "I sold out long before I met you. There was nothing left for you to sell."
Then she was gone. She was gone for good.
He dug a grave there, beneath the rocks, wrapping her body in the oil cloth and heaping large stones upon it. Her life was lost for good, and givin' pain for pain wasn't going to bring her back. Green eyes from a green valley, all below.
He rode back into town without looking back. He had enough salt stored up in tears not cried without the backwards glance.
Labels: blogathon
Copyright (c) Julie R. Neidlinger 7/30/2006 02:27:00 AM
Like this post? Subscribe to the feed.
Help support this site.
Facebook |
Stumble It! |
Del.icio.us |
DiggIt! |
Technorati |
Blinklist |
Furl |
reddit |
Newsvine
5 Comments:
He rode back into town without looking back. He had enough salt stored up in tears not cried without the backwards glance.
Oh, now that's good. Very good.
By 
Eric, at
30/7/06 02:32
I can write melodrama with the best of them. For some reason, these Bob stories bring it out. Seriously. I can churn it out as long as I'm speaking through a little plastic doll.
I find that mildly disturbing.
By Julie, at
30/7/06 02:59
And I find it more than mildly disturbing that I no longer see the characters as the plastic dolls that they are. ;-)
By Gwynne, at
30/7/06 03:31
It's because they're real!
At least, at 3:30 in the morning, they're real! They are!
By Julie, at
30/7/06 03:34
OK, now you're scaring me!
By Eric, at
30/7/06 04:21
