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Thursday, 26 January 2023

Morte de rigor

A passerby looked into the straw nest and said authoritatively “Morte de rigor”.

Jonathon started to fumble. His shoulders ached and he had no idea what should be done next - he just wanted to pass out with fatigue, and fought the immediate urge to do so.

The courier who was charged to reward him accordingly in exchange for the strange cadaver, was now refusing to do so. Jon gingerly lifted the flax flap of the basket where the remains of his father lay, and looked very quickly inside at its contents: the hay was sodden, but the head was still grey white unlike the other.

“No silver for you, nor this. I’ll take this one instead” the Steward said, snatching the basket of Jon’s father out from its pole.

Within the space of two minutes he had hooked it onto a side nail of his five foot high mount, and ridden away. A hundred feet from where Jon stood dazed, Stuart turned the horse, threw a purse, and then rode fast into the distance.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

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