What I Write
“Hey, Fray,” says Aidan. I hate this nickname but have never told him. When we first met, I had just been named, and I couldn’t wrap my tongue around the strange mix of vowels at the end, so my voice dropped off and “Fray” became his official nickname for me.
“Look what I caught for you.” He holds up a cloth sack knotted at the top with twine and tied gently to the tip of a pole with a beautiful blue ribbon. The bag is small and has a fist-sized hunk in the bottom.
“Thanks.” I untie it from the pole and cradle it in my arm while I tuck the ribbon into my belt pouch. The sack wriggles. My shoulder jerks with surprise and I nearly drop it. “Still alive?” My eyes wander to the horizon. The sun is still low, but his catch must be fresh. “Have you been fishing all night?”
“Naw. I dragged it out of the water two days ago. Been keeping it for your name day.”
I eye the sack suspiciously. “And it’s still wriggling?” I grab it by the top and weigh it with my arm. The wriggling stops. My face screws in confusion.
Aidan chuckles. “Open it.”
I pull at the twine, and the knot tightens. It’s a hitch I don’t know. Aidan’s smile softens and he reaches out and gently tugs at the side of the knot. It unravels. I peer inside expecting to see the smooth skin of an eel or gnarled squid tentacles. Instead, a pile of orange fur with two bright yellow eyes stares up at me.
|What I Write||
Elizabeth Ellis is an archaeologist turned writer. Once fueled by a passion for the material past, she has now turned her sights to explore the possibilities of humanity’s future. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, eating cheese or playing Zombies, Run. She resides in the Pacific Northwest.
My Write-a-thon Goals
I will complete a story, novella, or trilogy…one sprint at a time.
For every $5.00 donated to Clarion West, I’ll sprint for 20 minutes. Make me write more by sponsoring me!