Fish: Part 4 of ?

looking out of tent in the woods

In going back and reading the earlier parts of this story, I realized that I should make it clear that this isn’t meant to be anything astounding or well planned. I will only say that it is loosely (oh, so loosely) based on the Irish myth of Cessair. I’m just writing blind for fun here, folks. Such a novel idea, I know.

If you want to start from the beginning, here’s Part 1.

When we got in the tent I changed my skirt and hung the other to dry near the hearth. It was one of my favorites, even in advanced age and with numerous snags. Despite Fintan’s attempts to convince me to turn it into a rag, I insisted on keeping it as a garment for fishing, berry picking and other outdoor tasks. It was just strong enough to be practical, and just delicate enough to let me feel like a grown woman.

Fintan went to work preparing the fish for dinner. I’d not caught much, but it would make a nice meal for the two of us. I’d try again tomorrow for a larger catch that we could dry.

“Who was that small man, out there with everyone?” It came out of my mouth suddenly, as if by suggestion. I almost looked around to see if he were there with us.

“What small man? There was a stranger in the camp?”

“You didn’t see him? He looked so odd… I know we’ve met a few people along the way this past year, but they always seem glad to meet us. This man acted like we made him nervous. Like I made him nervous.”

“Why do you say that? Did you speak to him?” I could tell I was making Fintan the slightest bit concerned. It certainly wasn’t worth causing worry. He was just a man.

“No. No, I didn’t hear him say anything at all. He just had an expression that struck me strangely. I’m sure he was only trying to get his bearings amidst all the chaos of the evening.”

“Well, he wouldn’t be the first we’ve scared off. This tribe of travelers seems to cause a stir wherever it goes. I’ll be glad when we reach the sea, build a real home and leave this whole thing behind us.”

I waited for the rest. I waited to hear Fintan remind me, once again, that our life and family in the desert had been a crumbling delusion, and that we were fortunate to be rid of it.

“Bith never did anything so smart as to defy Noah and avoid that ship of drunken fear.”

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