She clawed at the ground, dirt packing her nails. If only she could remember. She
felt for cool metal, watched for a flash of silver light, imagined the ring
against her skin. The smile the day he
left her.
From the watch tower the guards grinned. 'Crazy bitch,' said Pedro
'Every day the same', replied Pieter, as he watched the tired pantomime
and sent a rifle cracking into the
brilliant aching sky.
She flinched like an animal.
'Time to reel her in,' said Pedro and he scattered a shoal of
curtain rings into the air. They fell catching the sun as they went, fell like
rain onto the dry soil of the compound and the woman ran around, picked them
up, stared at them, before slowly letting them fall through her fingers.
'Time to come home,' shouted the guard and the gates opened for her,
once again.
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