Wen-le-gone searches the night sky
for Baltella, asterism,
and Garnock, the running star.
Something familiar from home.
Sixteen sun-reels
since he was taken
by the Slain.
Stuffed into a sack.
Sold to Garg in Sintha
for eighty tickets.
No blame to the Slain.
Edlan — trader,
a way of life.
The Slain's reliability his bond.
His reputation his living.
Blame to the Dock-winders
who trade in sentient souls.
Blame to the Gel-heads,
Dock-winder lickspittle,
preying on females.
Wen-le-gone swats
at a cloud of elginards,
floaters on random currents of air.
Purposeless, ephemeral.
Wen-le-gone longs
for his hovel in Faun,
the fire pit on his kitchen roof,
his nightly game of tath-toll
with Gar-le-gnoss and Ban-le-kin.
The daily rituals of arm-homage
and contemplation.
The hunt at the two-bites of winter.
His morning cup of arbel tea.
Marl cooked in zill.
Ishlin crust dipped
in the indigo sap
of the pilinoth tree.
YOU ARE READING
Meniscus: One Point Five - Forty Missing Days
Science FictionAfter the Slain is shot, Odymn and an Argenop elder work together to try and return him to good health. As they journey towards the Themble, survival is a challenge. Odymn must add to her foraging skills and survive an attack by the vicious kotildi...
