Black Wind

From the Black Sea came the wind that took my brother. It blew for two days and nights without ceasing. Waking on the second morning, we found him bloodied and dying in the corner.

Father had fastened the shutters over French windows when the tell-tale moaning of breeze in the eves had started. Now he nailed large timbers taken from the floor in the master bedroom. There was a somber darkness in the Great Hall where I cowered in a corner, casting fearful glances everywhere. The sixteen-candle chandelier could not dissipate shadows.

I huddled in the comfort of Mother's bosom and tried to block out the hungry wind and Father's ominous foresight. "Remember my prediction. Before the dawning, this one will be gone too."

I fell asleep but was awoke from a harsh jerk and even harsher words. Father stood over me with a wicked looking knife. Flames gleamed and danced upon the blade and in his feverish gaze. "Let me send the boy to the Black Wind that the rest may see the morning."







177 Words