The light came again, shrinking my circle of sanctuary. I shut my sun-scorched eyes and pressed my limbs into the safety of roots and earth, their presence steadying me.
You knew it would come again, and you know it will go again too, I whispered to myself, letting the pain ease before I opened my eyes again.
The light was still there, dimmer than it had been when I was pulled from my dark and tossed among these roots.
“You won’t last,” I hissed. “Night will come. I’ll see without pain, find better shelter and good hunting then. I’ll wait.”
Clouds Above the Trees, photo by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Song Choice: Boris the Spider by The Who
This bit of flash fiction was inspired by the photo prompt given at Friday Fictioneers.