mermaidcamp

mermaidcamp

Keeping current in wellness, in and out of the water

You can scroll the shelf using and keys

#WritePhoto Who’s Watching?

August 3, 2017 10 Comments

watchers

watchers

The soldiers scrambled down the rocky terrain and spread out to hide in ambush. They had a secret mission to intercept a currier who was carrying supplies to the enemy  general in the field.  It was uncertain when the delivery would be made, but they had reliable intelligence about the location.  A spy had infiltrated the opposing camp to listen in on planning and strategy conversations.   Espionage was rather crude in that era, and extremely dangerous. The young man who had been sent to gather information had to remember it and relay it in person to a contact.  This required regular escapes from the camp, as well as returning in secrecy to his tent after the clandestine meetings.  He was chosen for his speed and his ability to make his way in the dark in silence.

He was never raised to be a spy.  His family was famous for long distance running and athleticism.  His brothers all joined sports teams and became stars.  He planned to follow in their footsteps, but had been drafted into the army when the war broke out up north.  He did not want to go, but since his family felt strongly that he should, he agreed to join the military effort.  His politics had not yet developed, but he suspected that the war and strife was absorbed by the poor while seeming to benefit the rich.  He did not really believe in defending this state of affairs, but was caught in a trap.  He hoped that the war would somehow liberate him.  He longed to leave the island and never return.

As the afternoon died he made his way through the woods to meet his contact at the prearranged time.  He only had a short window of time because he would be missed if he was not back for dinner.  He felt scared this time.  Something just felt wrong that day.  As he snuck around the bend to the appointed meeting place he was shot in the back by his own brothers in arms.  The arrow that pierced his heart was shot from the bow of a counter-spy who had infiltrated his platoon while he was busy in the opposing camp.  He died instantly.

#writephoto

#writephoto

Please join writers from around the world each Thursday at Sue Vincent’s Echo for an inspirational photo.  Find these stories and poems on twitter using the hashtag #writephoto.  This diverse group interprets the photo with great creativity and insight.  Read, write, or comment to join the party.

%d bloggers like this: