short #2

Us boys started off towards a thickening wood, Tom leading the way, making small chat about the shortened seasons this year while holding branches for me to pass through. As we neared a thickened grove of trees, I could hear a sad melody emerge from in front of us. I gave a start and reached out to touch Tom's jacket, however I noticed an upwards angle to his mouth that I had not yet seen. An expression of subtle satisfaction and unearthly gratitude. Almost at once, a girl with a shock of black hair emerged from the thicket and her humming stopped as she grew nearer.

"You ought not to sing songs like that, it's bad luck," said Tom, whose cheeks had blushed to a deep crimson.

"I know it," she said matter-of-factly, and her striking eyebrows raised in a challenging manner. The next moment, her lips parted into a budding smile and then she was off, as though to hide her slip of honesty.

short story

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