Underneath the Chestnut Tree
(Genre: historical fiction)
Amy arrived at the barn flustered, cheeks flaming almost to the colour of her hair. The lambing man’s face in contrast was grey with exhaustion.
For once her words were bold, urgent.
‘The meadow, courting corner; ewe caught in the hawthorn hedge.’
His thoughts were muddy with lack of sleep.
‘Under the old Chestnut. She’s birthing a lamb.’
It was the word lamb that did it. He rose, shaking himself to wakefulness.
‘Pass me them sacks,’ he said.
He took her hand and pulled her with him into the yard.
‘You’ve the hands of a midwife at any rate.’
Miranda Lewis 2017
Welcome to Friday Fiction and hello again after a bit of a hiatus. Thanks as always to our host, the writer Rochelle, whose own story can be found here, along with all the rules of play and Friday Fictioneers from around the globe. Thanks to Sandra Crook for the photo. (Realised I could have put a crook in the story, Sandra! Take the shepherd’s crook as read.)
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