Sarah wrapped her bleeding fingers in a rag. Torn between devotions, she had chewed them raw.
Thumping her head in frustration she questioned, why must she choose? Her heart raced at thoughts of her lover who filled her days with passion and nights with dreams of the life they would build.
Beloved Papa had raged. “He’s no good. Marrying Nate will bring a plaque onto us.”
Picking up the knapsack, she declared with forced confidence, “Eloping is the best thing to do.”
Her eyes followed as first one then another locust drifted in the open window settling on the ledge. Sarah’s knapsack hit the floor landing beside her heart.
A Sign: My stomach is tight with foreboding, the ingrained ancient cultural beliefs hang heavily in the air.