WWP 6: Excavation

James Jean

When she left she told us to stay with you but we couldn't let her go so we shook and we shook and we shook off our skins and we left you bundled in them and we bounded after her, held together by muscle and sinew and love, following her into the cool arms of the night and the woods and the wind, shedding drops of blood behind us. We padded silently just outside the shallow puddle of light cast by her candle, gnashing our teeth at the things whose scents and secrets crept about on the clear night air. When she came to the pool she blew out her candle, smelling like snowdrops in her calm and her blindness, shed her pale blue gown, and stepped into the water. We who felt the wind whispering through our bones could not be any nakeder so we stepped in after her. We could not help but yelp at the cold water that rushed through our paws, but she did not scold us, just walked on reverently, and so we yipped and yarooed joyfully at her and the pale thin moon above her.

Soooo yeah. I wrote a paragraph this week. Way to go, Emma.