It’s a full moon midnight when the Wavers slide from water onto sand.
Too bright a night to fear attack, the men here stumble deep in drink or sunk in
But the Wavers aren’t here to fight; they’ve come to reclaim.
And I’ve been waiting all my life for these women who tame the sea, whose hearts beat with the rhythm of the tide.
As I ride away with them over the waves, the roused men cry: The Wavers have taken our daughter.
As if I was theirs to keep. Like a bowl, or an axe, or a beast.
This story was shortlisted in the July monthly micro fiction competition.
About the author:
Kathryn Clark writes for all ages. Her stories have been placed in various contests and published in anthologies, in magazines and online. She has an MA in Writing for Young People and helps other writers through her mentoring and reading services. https://kathrynclarkwriter.co.uk/mentoring-editorial-services https://twitter.com/KClarkwriter