Monday, May 7, 2018

100 Words a Day 1192

The smoke from the small cooking fire was invisible in thick morning fog.

“Time to get up, girl,” the old hag said, giving Sarah a light shake.

The old woman stood straight and strong, like the trees. Her face was unmarred by the lines that creased across of many of the women she’d grown up with and her clothing was sturdy and well-made. She was clearly ancient, but her age was as indeterminate as the age of the vast forest.

Sarah stretched and threw back her fur blanket. When she stood up, she only came up to the hag’s chin.

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