By Will
A shot cracks in the woods.
I crouch in whispering leaves. I watch you, silent, still, branches above us bare, backlit against the moon.
You bend over the doe, belly pulsing quickly, eye blinking wide, black globe reflecting the branches etched, stark, intricate, a sky curved with fear.
Your hand hovers over her breast.
Your fingers stretch, reach.
You touch the white tips of her fur, and I flinch. I know that touch.
When you startle me awake, you say, “Sssshhh! It’s only me, Daddy.” And the nights? They were our secrets until I saw the doe, and she was me.
This is crafted well; descriptive and haunting.
Chilling story.
Clever. poignant.