Semi-Daily Scribbles

I was too scared to cry. I thought of the pale pink gem hidden in my fist, and didn't know if I should keep it or beg the night to take it back. Either way, I couldn’t bear the thought of someone else possessing it. Death was coming for me, and one magic stone was not going to stop him at the door. I was shaking, though a fever raged through me. I remember it became very, very quiet. The usual sounds of restless animals and wailing children had been swallowed up by the surrounding forest. It was still as Sunday as a bright light swept through the barn, knocking me flat on my back. The pain in my head was real. This was no dream. I had been lost to the wilderness for so long, I was senseless to all else. Was there really a world beyond the far churchyard? The clack of a carriage got closer. My name was called down from the clouds. I would be the only traveler that evening. There was no one to see me off. Where I was going, not even belief in something better could assure me safe passage.