Gathering Corn

He was gathering corn when he heard a commotion. The basket he carried on his back was almost full to the top, and soon he would return to the community hub to provide food for his people.

He continued what he was doing, curious about the noise but not overly concerned. His were a peaceful people and rarely did they have conflict. They were able to talk themselves towards compromise and conciliation. Animals were their biggest worry but patrols scared or confronted, when necessary.

When he started to hear cries and the sound of plants being snapped in frenzy, he stopped and focused. His heart was beating faster. He heard a whistle as air was penetrated and a thud as a heavy object fell to the floor. He started to back away from the noise, confusion plain on his face.

When the plants parted some way infront of him, he was startled to see Kele's face, wide-mouthed and terror-filled, burst through. Again, he heard the whistling and was horrified when Kele seemed to stop mid run and plunge headlong to the ground. As he looked down and saw the arrow protruding from Kele's back, it only took him a moment to realise that he needed to run. He had no time to remove the basket and so, with the heavy weight of it encumbering him, he ran.

He didn't know if the crashing that he could hear was made by him powering through the crop or by pursuers. He had never been more conscious of being alive as at that moment, his blood coursing, his legs powering him on. He felt a jolt as something hit his back and he almost stopped but fear kept him moving.

And then, the tall stalks ended and he was at the end of the escarpment. He panted with exertion as he reached the cliff edge and launched himself down.

Gripping the hand hold he had used countless times before, he waited. Dirt from above showered on his head. He held his breath, knuckles white.

Angry voices, barking.

And then retreating.

Relieved, he continued quickly down the rock face to his home in the cliffs.

He was safe.

For now.

***

366 words

This piece was inspired by a visit to Mesa Verde National Park and the Pueblo people who made dwellings in the cliffs, which have been restored and can be visited today. It is North America's Macchu Picchu and is well worth a visit.

And I doubt that they grew corn but it worked well for the atmosphere I was trying to create in this story.

Also, I was inspired by this statue which is outside of the visitor centre and which I thought was pretty special in evoking what life for these people must have been like:

Apologies for the glut of stories again but I am off for a couple of days to visit family and I can't edit or save or launch things from my Android phone and as we only have one laptop, I can't take it with me. Preparedness is key but I do realise that you'll be bombarded by notifications. For those of you that stick with me through all of my microfiction et al, I appreciate it very much.

Thanks for stopping by! If you do read this, please leave a comment as I love to interact with my readers.

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