The Bluff
Captain James Abernathy stood atop the rocky bluff and leaned forward to survey the area. He could hear the creek, the birds, and begrudgingly, traffic from the nearby highway. He shook his head. He knew the rebels were nearby. Suddenly, there was movement in the brush. “Jimmy! Dinner!” His little brother’s voice was like a bullet to his bubble. His proud shoulders dropped; the spell was broken. He gathered his canteen and binoculars and turned to look back out over the bluff. For a second the mist returned to his eyes as he vowed to himself. “This is not over.”
