#FiveSentenceFiction: Thief

Apache warriorFor us this is sacred land, soil enriched by the blood of our ancestors, in their endless fight against invaders.

As children we were told the stories, the lives of those heroes, alive today in the trees and our souls, and we were taught how to fight too.

So, when they came, huge, fat and white, full of water, we had no difficulty in recognising them: the thieves, the rapists, without honour or real courage, armoured and surrounded by their devilish machines.

The sun was high, the air hot, we could see them sweating under their armour, as their predecessors always did.

The eagle told us, their numbers, where they were, where their ammunition dump was; then the Son of the Eagle led us, it took only one small bomb to erase the thieves off the surface of our world.

#FiveSentenceFiction: Departure

tearsWe stand on the platform, both silent.

You’re taller than me now, and I would have difficulty in carrying that heavy rucksack, you’re stronger too…

Yet, you are still fragile, I know, and I wish I could communicate, no, better, transfer to you my inner strength.

You smile, we kiss, you stand tall, a young woman walks past, looking at you, your train arrives, we shake hands: farewell my son.

There is no tears as those of a soldier.