Mai Griffin
and, as they were reasonably safe from any mortal threat, there
was really nothing to worry about.
***
Neither had seen the stranger watching the house. He sensed that
his waking periods were lengthening and wondered, vaguely,
how long ago he’d been injured. His clearest recollection was of
lying near a river and he clung to it, hoping that earlier memories
would surface. With each emergence from that unfathomable
void he’d grown more desperate for help, waving and calling
whenever he saw people. Now, probably miles from there, he
had even more to worry about.
How had he arrived in this garden and why?
The answer instantaneously came to him. A