Luke Dalton

Chaos Spared

The head of Jerrick’s ax drops swiftly down through the old log, sending the two halves dropping off either side of the woodblock. He places another upon it, and swings again with the same force and precision. It is a skill and muscle memory he had developed well in the past few years. He brings his forearm up to wipe the sweat from his brow, revealing the moisture that had accumulated in his underarms. He looks to the sun high in the sky, before looking out at the desert horizon.