What I Felt on the Hill

© Markus Russin

Looking back, as if standing on a hill, I closed my eyes and ears and tried to become one with the wind. It could not blow away my fear of the night; but it allowed me to stay away from sensations of the dark. I was alone now. In very different ways we both were.

Spreading; his hands remained in places where their imprints had lurked in moments when only forest trees would listen. They whispered: Everybody’s turn will come. Such were my thoughts on that hilltop.

November 2016, a short series of flash fiction.

Part 1: The Observation of Brevity
Part 2: Inclination
Part 3: Hence the Name
Part 4: What I Felt on the Hill
Part 5: In Silence