Copyright © Emmi Lawrence
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Short Story (Approx. 7400)
History documented his landing. Not in so many words, but as a footnote referencing the fiery meteor that streaked across the sky and crashed among the pitted craters toward the northeast of the settlement.
Later stories told of a demon dwelling in the canyon who could burn your flesh right off your body with a single touch. Mothers used the demon of the canyon fable for decades to scare their children into obedience. By the time I was born, the canyon had been renamed, even on our maps.
In my youth, I preferred to be respected and trusted by my elders so no one ever called me a wild child or a rebel. Oh, I had my few forays into the craters, climbed up to drink from the spiral spring and had to run my heart out to escape from the king bull who ruled the dusty fields and rutted all the cows. But those expeditions had been practically expected by my parents and I barely received a glare from my father for getting home late. Never had I strayed into even the slanting edge of the canyon where many others gathered for late-night parties, their daring more out of idiocy rather than courage.
And yet, for all that, I’d never been afraid. It’s hard to fear something you don’t believe exists. Continue reading