Her knees quaked as the clouds rushed at her.
Bracing herself against the bare rock, she breathed, “I can do this. Withstand the storm; stand in the assembly.”
A too-close crack of lightning shattered a tree in the valley below. Cowering, her wide eyes fell on an arrow, made visible in the bright flash. It pointed to an opening in the cliff.
“Forget this,” she ran.
She lit her now protected torch and gasped.
Hundreds of names covered the wall: Parents, elder brother… grandmother? Under the faded name of the tribe’s founder, her finger traced, “Brave doesn’t mean stupid.” She grabbed a rock and began to carve.
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Snagged from Jimmie’s great story, who snagged the idea from Darleen at protein wisdom and Smitty at The Other McCain. Mine is 106 words, but whatever. Don’t judge me! Or actually do. What do you think? Join in with your own story!
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