(Photo Credit: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields)
With the languid grace of a gymnast, Parveen landed with a soft thud and precisely braced knees on the damp mud surrounding the embankment. Gingerly wading her way through the mass of foul smelling water, she crossed over towards the second pillar whose base was partly hidden by a dense undergrowth of Sparganium eurycarpum or bur-weed.
The desperate wails had now turned to tired whimpers. Looking into the exhausted but gleaming eyes of the child Parveen went down on her knees and tenderly picked her up.
“Where are you taking me?” the shrill voice was filled with terror.
(Word Count: 99)
This story was written as part of the FRIDAY FICTIONEERS challenge, more about which may be found HERE
For the complete list of entries, please click HERE
The credit for the breathtaking photograph goes to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields