Luke Stanley

The Tarn

Dawn tickled Ebony’s eyelids. Swinging her feet off the bed she pushed her waves of red hair behind her ears and stared out of the window at the cobbled street just as the milkman's horse and cart rolled past. She almost felt sorry for the tourists who only got to enjoy Arbonshire's fresh untainted produce on their brief holidays here... almost. Ebony opened her wardrobe and cast her eyes left to right looking scornfully at the section holding the clothes of the strangers. Tight jeans, crop tops and other attire that was not befitting a lady of Arbonshire, but gently reminded herself that it was necessary to the herding process. She slipped out of her nighty and into a white frilly dress that was buttoned up to her neck and fastened her bonnet. She looked approvingly at herself in the mirror scanning the outfit with her emerald green eyes before shooting a glance up to the family portrait on her wall. She looked into her mothers steely blue eyes and knew that she would have been proud of her contribution to the tarn if she were still here. “Are you ready for your birthday breakfast?” Her father's voice echoed through the old cottage.