The rocky field lies still, cut open by glacial streams, edged by heavy forest. Further north, mountains beckon, tops occluded in weeping clouds.
Arrows rattle in their quiver, bow strapped, snapping, over their feathered shafts, knife silent in the journeywoman’s boot, daypack tapping sidewise across her aging body.
The horse needs no lead, no saddle; they travel as always, equal partners.
Her dream had told her: once that final, flaming arrow was nocked and released, she’d be free to go her own way.
(Ahead and within, the blue door beats a steady clarion call.)
© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2024)
The challenge? Write a story in exactly 6 sentences based on Denise’s one word prompt: DREAM. Visit, comment, and write & perhaps post your own on SIX SENTENCE STORIES. The Café is open. Come as you are!
Valley of the Trolls 
Pingback: Midnight Sun 4 | Valley of the Trolls
I love that the journeywoman and horse travel as equal partners, Liz. Theirs is a strong bond.
LikeLiked by 1 person
💚🧡♥️ Wonderful ♥️
Blessed and Happy afternoon 🌞🌈🇪🇸
LikeLike
Wonderfully descriptive, I could see them in my mind.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Keith! 🐎🦄
LikeLike
Beautifully described, Liz! May her quest be completed soon.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Baby steps. Thanks for your k in nd comment, Nicole!💐
LikeLiked by 1 person
I do hope she completes the quest.
LikeLike
She can now! Thanks, Mimi!
LikeLike
There’s a dreamlike quality to the tale… that her body is aging let’s us know it’s been a long journey, this dream-led quest.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Metaphorically autobiographical, perhaps, on the heels of my 4 previous posts? Thanks, D.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I have some reading to do!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I wonder where she’s going (although I think I know).
LikeLiked by 1 person
An intriguing story
LikeLiked by 1 person
May she get free to go her own way.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Frank. From your lips to…😉
LikeLiked by 1 person