Leave a comment

VisDare / Introducing Hal

Hal Marchant looked at the moon, hanging bone white in a washed-out dawn sky the colour of his mentor’s eyes, and knew two things. He must be dangerously overtired to be distracting himself with unhelpful comparisons. And he was late.

He curled deeper into the inadequate cover of the bare winter bushes, surveying the fields he had hoped to cross by night. He would be fatally exposed if he crossed them now, and though Hal, at 21, had been fairly accused of over-confidence, braggadocio, and a flippant disregard for procedure, the year now was 1987, and a sadder, wiser man watched the waking hamlet.

He might have risked it, for himself – the run was tantalizingly short, the nearest guard post temptingly distant – but he was carrying more than his own life in his hands. His mind flicked back to his contact, the old woman. Old? Ancient. So ancient that it seemed possible that memories of White Russia stoked the furnace of her rage, the inner fire that sustained that wisp of a body and compelled her to risk a charge of treason in the name of patriotism. He couldn’t allow it to come to that.

Somewhere a diesel engine coughed its way into life, not quite masking a girl’s voice, singing. She sang joyfully, and a smile touched his lips as he listened, absorbing the patterns of the hamlet and beginning to understand that he had been wrong. He had not come too late, but too early. He glanced at his nondescript clothes, checking. Yes. By darkness he could only have seemed exactly what he was, a thief in the night. In a few hours, with care, he might pass for just another busy local.

It would take only nerve, and Hal Marchant had never been short of that.

Inspired by this week’s VisDare images (and as ever I encourage you to take a look at the other entries, and play along if you’re that way inclined), but also a glimpse of Hal Marchant, older and sadder than a boy of 21 perhaps, but still a younger man than you will meet in the forthcoming Find the Lady.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

FictionTrials

Trials & Tribulations of Writing Fiction

petebarr

Stills, video, thoughts.

The Addicted Writer

Writing stories people want to read

Mathew Lyons

WRITER & HISTORIAN

Shreya Vikram

Blurring the lines between poetry and prose

Project Gemini

The adventures of a dad of three, beginning to explore the world of writing.

estherchiltonblog

Esther Chilton - Writer and Tutor

Dirty Sci-Fi Buddha

Musings and books from a grunty overthinker

UlstermanBooks

Author DW Ulsterman

The Daily Tales of Gregg Savage

Every day, I write a unique story for you to share and enjoy.

Little Fears

Tales of humour, whimsy and courgettes

wtf, subconscious?

Dreams, drawings and psychoanalytic fun

harm·less drudg·ery

defining the words that define us

unbolt me

the literary asylum

"Where we're going, we don't need roads."

On sports and life and other topics at hand ...

Mum's The Word!

Life through the eyes of a mum, wife, woman

Rose English UK

Read-a-holic

%d bloggers like this: