[Fiction] Dear Josephine

Dear Josephine,

Today we walked in the woods together, the ax hefted on my shoulder and the gun on yours. It was bright early and the snowfall was fresh, crunching under our boots. Our breaths came out thick and white, mingled together and disappeared up into the sky.


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[Fiction] The Natives

The cavalry camped out in the steppe grass by the creek. Half of the men disrobed, bathing off the dusty grime of the country we’d ridden through. There were enough soldiers chumming up the brackish water and I decided to wait my turn for a rinse.

Smith hummed to himself by the campfire, taking out some of our precious stores for mess. The smell of fried beans wafted over.

“How much we got?” I eyed our dwindling supplies.

“Enough for the winter!”

I spit out my tobacco and counted the months in my head, calculating that the war might be over by then, when Smith stood and shaded a bony hand over his brow. “Lookout’s coming!”

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