Meet Annabelle
The day star had risen, and details were visible through the ever-present dust. Annabelle could finally discern faces among the crowd of people that had gathered for the ceremony. Instead, they were being entertained by four women chained to the ancient tree.
‘You four are just holding things up,’ someone said.
‘I think they’re probably holding up the tree,’ another watcher commented.
‘Hell, it’s more fun than listening to a lot of speeches,’ a third person said.
We are all one.
Annabelle wasn’t sure who had spoken the last sentence, if anyone had. Had the voice just been in her head? She squirmed against the chains, but they were too tight.
‘Don’t struggle, child,’ Martha said. She was the oldest and their leader. ‘You might loosen the binding. Be one with the tree.’
‘Did you hear it? Did you hear the voice?’
‘There are lots of voices in the crowd, child. And most of them are speaking nonsense.’
Annabelle calmed, if only to prove she wasn’t a child. I’m one of the most passionate members of the group, she thought, but no one likes to listen to a sixteen-year-old.
Ah, Annabelle, a sixteen-year-old taking part in her first civil protest.
What will the ruler think?
And where did that damn voice come from?