July 04, 2021, 07:40 PM
backdated to 06.25
once upon a time, a man named Reek had made his home here, among the rocks and the songbirds.
today, his great-granddaughter lie still, near the pool, sent tumbling down by none other than his daughter.
blood spilling blood. and a bloodied girl, in coat and condition.
o, Reek! look what your children hath wrought.
a lark touches down, just shy of her muzzle, pecking at the sun-baked ground for morsels of food. flies settle on her ribs, insistent, biting.
the barest breath stirs the dust.
not enough to rid herself of pests and passers-by,
but enough to go on.
Larksong Grotto, a chapter in the life of yet another Redtail.
and the birds, they sing. . .