After A Much Needed Rest
C.C. Russell The sun rising through the thick copse of trees is such a deep red that it is hard for us to believe that the forest isn’t ablaze just on the other side of our vision. Behind us, the blackness slowly fades more towards the blue of morning. We listen for anything moving beyond our crude camp, shocked that all of us have made it through the night. Some of us take to prayers, throw thanks to the heavens. Others gather our weapons soundlessly, prepare to break camp. Time to move again. Someone asks what day it is and we all begin laughing – a thin, fragile sound echoing through the trees. Negotiations C.C. Russell In the morning, the representatives of freedom appeared bearing their firearms and curses. There are photographs; a bizarre form of before and after. Images of the change that spread across their faces – the exact moment their hatred of us was solidified. They sat down across the table from us, laughing in their own language at the foods we offered. Oh, yes, we understood their tongue but we fed them anyway. It was our custom then; the benefit of the doubt. We fed them. And despite their laughter, they ate until they were full. As they always had. |
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About the Author: C.C. Russell lives in Wyoming with his wife and daughter. His writing has appeared in such places as the Cimarron Review, Rattle, and The Colorado Review. His short fiction has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Best Small Fictions, and Best of the Net. He has held jobs in a wide range of vocations – everything from graveyard shift convenience store clerk to retail management with stops along the way as dive bar dj and swimming pool maintenance. He has also lived in New York and Ohio. He can be found on Twitter.
