Leave a comment

Chances

She was surrounded.

That was bad. As an unlicensed trader Cherren’s liberty depended on always – always – having somewhere to run. Usually she had a partner to help her in that, but he was dead, and she had to live. The first day without him had been intoxicating, her senses on fire, but she knew she should have quit as soon as she had enough put by. Too late now. It was the fifth day and finally, fatally, she had slipped.

She was surrounded by large men.

That was less bad. Large men could be clumsy, and her stock was light. There was a chance she could slip between them and be lost in the crowd, but it was a chance she didn’t like to take. Large men could be deceptive. Harl had been a large man, and had moved like a dancer. That was a memory that didn’t help.

She was surrounded by large men, with large guns.

And that put the tin lid on any plans for flight. They were the Consul’s men, and wouldn’t be shy of shooting into the crowd; their guns only stunned, and any innocent bystander they caught would wake up to handsome compensation. What Cherren would wake up to was as unhelpful a thought as the memory of Harl at her side.

She was surrounded by large men, with large guns. None of them were smiling.

At last, a sliver of hope. There were squads who would have shown delight to have her at their mercy, and squads on a bounty promise who would have been quietly pleased. This squad was only bored, and for bored men a little entertainment paid large.

Cherren smiled a smile like the sun rising on Sal-Sattaran and said

“Hey boys. I have just the thing for you …”

A little something for this week’s Microcosms.

Advertisements

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 )

w

Connecting to %s

estherchiltonblog

Esther Chilton - Writer and Tutor

UlstermanBooks

Author DW Ulsterman

The Daily Tales of Gregg Savage

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

Daily Doodle

Art doesn't have to be worthy to be worth sharing

Little Fears

Tales of whimsy, humor and courgettes

wtf, subconscious?

Dreams, drawings and psychoanalytic fun

harm·less drudg·ery

defining the words that define us

Sableyes

Sabbles woz 'ere

unbolt me

the literary asylum

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

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

Margaret McGoverne

Storyteller- Blogger- Author

Mum's The Word!

Life through the eyes of a mum, wife, woman

Rose English UK

Read-a-holic

The FarFlung Sofa

The writings and ramblings of Sam Kurd

Physics and Art

The strange case of Dr. August and Mr. von Orth.

Fibro Fog Flash Fiction

Small novels, big tales

The Noisy Songbird

Verbosity in abundance

%d bloggers like this: