The year has aged badly. A dull and lifeless summer carried behind it a bleak autumn,and now the November evenings whisper with a deep and desperate malcontent.
Above the town a lonely mongrel howls at nothing whatsoever, and a dozen dogs reply to that nothing, which now becomes something
The town bridge creaks with despair as carts bounce over its spine. Beneath the bridge the river passes oblivous to the pain inflicted just a breath away. Something is slung over the wall and hits the water.I do not want to think what it might be.
Bleak. Desolate. Barren. Bare. Raw.
I should turn and go, there is nothing here for me, except certain death, and with my death the end of reason for so many.
Stood here on the edge of a spindly copse I can see several raggedy groups of soldiers milling around, their fires dancing with languid bright flames that taunt those shivering within the town. Many weeks ago from inside the town walls defiant youths would lean over and shout obscenities at the waiting army, but that was an eternity ago..
Siege is such a meaningless word when you are here on the outside, but I have no problem imagining the despair inside those walls.
Suspended either side of the town gates are the remains of two bodies, pecked and gobbled by ravens and rats, their rancid odour will be choking the strength of the townsfolk. Once I knew their faces better than my own.
After sixty two days food will be low,almost non existent,there has been no sound of livestock for more than two weeks and without this incessant rain, lack of water would have ended matters long before now. Tragically men inside the walls need to preserve water for quelling fires lit outside their town gates. Water will be for the children and the thieves
I can feel daylight creeping up behind me, the carts,four of them stationed outside the gates are full of livestock and over the next few hours their plaintive sounds will be torture to those just a few yards away.
This will have to end today. I am defeated.There will be a victory for others and justice for no one.These brave and honourable townsfolk have stood by me, and now I have little choice but to abandon them.
That there is nothing I can do does not make matters better, does not clear my conscience, it just knots this cancer of regret through my body. What have I done? Oh God what have I done?
I squeeze my eyes shut and slowly reopen them and take in every last detail and whisper a prayer of apology, then turn and trudge the other way with a burden of guilt on my shoulders that will never leave.
Copyright © 2008 Rob Richardson. All Rights Reserved.