These are just some creative musings I had one day as I
toyed with a phrase. I wanted to see how
it could play out in any number of scenarios -- I only got to three, but it was
fun playing with this mysterious girl called Kendal.
Kendal stumbled forward with the
unexpected weight, catching herself just before she truly fell. The extra
bundle the overseer threw onto her frame nearly made her knees buckle. But she silently gritted her teeth, sent a
silent prayer heavenward, and continued down the sloping path. Loose pebbles
skittered before her as she trudged the narrow trail, being careful not to
stray too far to the right where the mountainside dropped at least a dozen
feet. She was starting to lose track of
how many days she had been stuck on this mountain detail. Her patience was running thin, and if the
overseers made her pack any heavier, she was liable to do something they’d
regret.
A loose rock gave
way under her feet and her knees ultimately gave out beneath her this
time. She drove the heels of her hands
into the dirt to catch herself as the wooden frame strapped to her back
propelled her awkwardly forward.
"This is no
time for a break!" A second overseer stomped toward her.
She tried in vain
to stand, but the weight of the frame made it impossible to find her
balance. Her knees screamed in pain as
sharp pebbles dug into her skin.
Suddenly she felt the frame shift violently as was lifted into the air
like a doll and set on her feet.
"Now get back
to work." The gruff voice of the man towering over her left no room for
argument as he shoved her forward.
She took a deep
shuddering breath, gripped the pack hugging her shoulders, and forced one foot
in front of the other. It was only a
matter of time before she would cease to be their pack mule.
Kendal stumbled forward with the
unexpected weight, catching herself just before she truly fell. The
miniature man clinging to her back held a short blade to her throat. In the span of a second she had to decide
whether to rip the knife away and throw the man off her, or still beneath the
sharp edge. She chose the latter.
His weight did
not shift; however, it wasn’t long before she felt his hot breath on her ear as
he
rasped, “Do not move if you value your life.”
“I value many
things,” she said calmly, remaining frozen in place. “Self-perseverance, however, is at the top of
my priorities. How can I help you?”
“Where is the
key?” She could smell his sour breath this time.
“What key?”
“I do not play
games with my prey,” he threatened, moving the blade tight enough against her
throat to draw a thin line of blood.
Kendal winced,
but remained impassive. “Is that what I
am? Would you mind getting off my
back? This is getting uncomfortable.”
The man only
locked his knees more firmly in place above her hips and grunted. “Give me the key or I will slit your throat.”
“If you slit my
throat, you’ll never find out where the key is,” she paused. “It appears we’ve reached an impasse.”
With one swift
shift, she threw the stranger over her right shoulder, hurdling him into the
ground, at the same time snatching the knife out of his hand and holding it
over his throat. His startled
expression, as well as how he was gasping for breath, brought a smug smile to
her lips.
“Now, little sir,
let’s try this one last time. What key?”
Kendal stumbled forward with the unexpected
weight, catching herself just before she truly fell. James had
hoped to knock her flat on her stomach, but she bent her knees to deal with the
extra weight, shrugging him off. She let
out a raspy laugh even as he picked himself up and positioned himself to attack
once more.
“You’re doing much
better than last week,” he grinned impishly.
“Now that you’ve
used the same method of attack four times, I’m expecting it.” Her eyes were alight with triumph. “You may be older, but I’m taller,” she threw
his insecurity in his face.
James’s eyes
narrowed as he attacked head-on. “I have
a lower center of gravity. Better for
hand to hand combat.” He lunged low.
She dodged his
attack easily and used his momentum to drive him facedown into the dirt,
straddling him with her knees. “Well?”
James squirmed,
but had no leverage. All he could do was
grunt in defeat.
“Who’s the
victor?” She pressed down on his spine
between his shoulder blades.
“You’re the
victor,” he let out a puff of air.
