Waiting there for me to find is a small bowl of sweet bush berries and a faded blue neck wrapper. On the wooden table next to my waterskin and hunting knife sits a surprise. He’s been having troubles sleeping as of late. Quietly, so as not to disturb him, I tiptoe around him sleeping on his cot in front of the cold hearth. With that gods awful racket it’s no wonder I cain’t sleep. I can hear gra’da snoring on the other side of the tin wall that separates my bed from the rest of the shanty. I pull them on and lace ‘em up real tight. My worn leather boots are laying under the bed where I dropped them last evening. Born day or not I still have traps to check. I get out of bed, pull on my tunic and trousers, braid my hair, wash my face in the basin of water beside my bed. I am, as Miz Emma would say, officially a grown woman. Today is my born day, my eighteenth year. The sun has yet to rise and start heating up the day. It’s still dark outside, not quite morning, but I lay wide awake. I would not have made it this far without you. This book is dedicated to my husband Ernie, my son Adam, and best buds Glenda and Paul. Any incidences of resemblance are purely coincidental. Characters, settings, names and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination and bear no resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, places or settings, and or/occurrences. Cover Art and Design by Laura Gordon (ISBN: 978149300866 (paperback)
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