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...
