Posts Tagged ‘captivity’

You imagine me a meek woman. Dress me in a billowy pink dress sewn from rough silk decorated with powder-blue ribbons – a doll on display. But locked in this cabin, who will see me? Grandfather Cedar? Brother Bluejay?

Sister Sun hasn’t touched my skin in ages. Yes, I will use that word because I know neither month nor year. You have turned me into a pale-faced ghost.

But watch out, my friend. Throughout my days of confinement, I have summoned my ancestors: Bear, Raven, Beaver. Became strong. Soon I will fly from this prison, leaving Coyote to exact my revenge.

I might be stepping outside my bounds on this subject, but I know a Makah woman who disappeared years ago. I knew of her from childhood. She grew into a lovely young lady, then “disappeared.” This story is for her.

The Attempt

Posted: November 18, 2015 in Friday Fictioneers
Tags: , ,


We are birds in your cage. Thousands wearing dirty, striped pajamas.
We sing, you strike us. We laugh, you scream. We dance, you ruin our feet.

Each of us leaves something behind.
Jaleh: A comb
Edda: Perfume
Abi: Her favorite high heels
Fahim: Cuff links of gold

Today is our day. My day, really. I clip the barbed wire for all of us. Each captured soul.
We have waited through dark days and bright until now. Now is perfect.
The wire parts. Countless numbers slide through. Oh, how we run!

One bullet. Two. Freedom rips through my back.