Enemy
Their footsteps faded behind me as I approached the familiar road. Someone hung a tree snake on the barbed-wire fence. I stabbed its mangled head with a stick and tossed it onto the ground, its wet body dusted yellow. The branch above me rustled, and I jumped back suddenly, afraid to look up. In the distance, the house stood in dying light. I turned to see them coming down the road, and ran home, exhilarated. Tien Tran |