Snippet: Rebellion
I am just one person, but I'm not helpless, and I'll do what I can. I've been described as a mercenary, but there's no fortune to be had doing what I'm doing. The people who walk behind me in a chain, hands linked, have nothing left to give me. No way to pay for the risk I'm taking. Ships buzz the air overhead, tracing a patrol pattern from the ridge to the north to the valley in the south. But they're making assumptions. They'd have to make a mistake – a deviation, stumbling from their expectations – if they were to have any chance at finding us. That's the thing about oppressors and their armies: they're so quick to undervalue and underestimate the people they seek to control. If they could appreciate us, chances are their worldview would be too comprehensive to make them want to clamp down and squeeze as tightly as they do. There's something to be said for not being an asshole. And that's what I do this. Why I risk everything to get these people to safety. I'm no asshole. We all do what we see as necessary, or we know – and have to live with knowing – that we're part of the problem. Ahead, the carefully maintained steps of the monastery rise from the cover of golden leaves. The voices behind me murmur. They've forgotten their exhaustion. The sunlight reflects off the morning dew clinging to the stones of the bridge ahead. Their long night is over. Author's note: These snippets are unedited free-writing exercises that I use as a way to shift my brain into a creative state. I use Lynda Barry's What It Is YouTube timed exercises (usually 9 minutes worth of writing) for these. They are handwritten in a composition notebook and then typed up here. As I transcribe them, I do tiny grammar and spelling checks, but the overall "clarity" (if you can call it that) of the exercise is left as-is.