Random Scribbles · writing

The Way of the Wolf

“There is a legend in these woods about a white wolf. A wolf who has lived here for hundreds of years; a wolf that most men cannot see. Who will wait on high ground and observe all that happens in the forest. The story says that he can divine the courage of all those who pass through the forest.

“This wolf will attack only the bravest of the brave to impart a vicious bite, then retreat, like smoke, back into the trees.

“Those bitten will suffer with a fever for three days, or they will die. Most die. If they survive; they will carry  the courage, the strength, the endurance, the power, and the wisdom of the wolf. They will rise to be leaders of their people. All others will treat them with deference and respect.”

“That’s a lovely story, John, but it’s just a story. I’m certain you don’t…”

Pulling back his sleeve and uncoiling the makeshift bandage he showed her the wound on his arm.

“Will you cool my brow and fetch me water for the next few days, Sarah. I’d be most grateful. I have nowhere else to go.”

Random Scribbles · writing

George Tooker

George Tooker Lovers, 1982 Lithograph, 12 x 16 inches Edition of 175
Lovers, 1982
Lithograph, 12 x 16 inches
Edition of 175

She told herself it was OK. What she was doing was OK.

The letter had thrilled her, but was unspecific; advising only his return sometime in March.

She took a room at Dixon’s farm in exchange for cooking, cleaning, and laundry. She told Ms Dixon that she was waiting.

The front window offered a view of the station. Whenever a train arrived she watched from that window.

There were three trains a day.

On March 19th, she watched him step down to the platform from the 3:15.

She was off, like a light and,

they collided on the dusty path.