I’m now a regular contributor for Short Fiction Break. Here’s my first short story.
Is this where I belong, in a village under the shadow of a mountain?
Lately, my whole existence has been in shadow. It feels as if life is passing me by, unable or unwilling to reach me on this side of the mountain.
Sightseers would say that my village is picturesque, and yes, I’d agree. With its patchwork of fields dotted with grazing sheep, rolling hills, streams, and woodland thickets, who wouldn’t want to live here?
Tourists come by the coach-load to have their summer vacation, putting their tents up in our meadows, dropping their litter, and leaving charred patches of earth from their campfires. By the time the summer passes, they’ve returned to their urban living, and their nine-to-five jobs. The truth is, there’s nothing to keep them here, nothing to keep me here, either. It’s my prison, my picturesque prison. Staying here, I’m barred from any chance of…
View original post 984 more words