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SelfSame

Page 18

by Conway, Melissa


  Who indeed? She finished chewing and reached for a tankard that turned out to be filled with milk. It was warm, and unlike the bread, fresh. After gulping half of it down, she cradled the tankard in her hands and stared into it self-consciously. She wanted to ask him who had dressed her, but decided against it. Something about the way he looked at her, like he knew her intimately, told her all she needed to know.

  As if he could read her thoughts, he said, “I, uh, took no liberties, Miss. All the men in me patrol are respectful.”

  To hide her embarrassment, she took another bite of the stale bread.

  “Beggin’ yer pardon, Miss, but I do need ta know yer name. We’ll be wanting ta contact yer people.”

  She chewed slowly to delay her answer, looking up into Charles Murphy’s earnest face. When she finally replied, her words were softly spoken, but filled with determination.

  “I have no people. My name is…Sarah.”

  The End.

 

 

 


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