The Promise

by Deborah Black

Yasmine gripped the bow and arrow tightly in her hands. She was determined to make sure that her aim was true.  The wind blew carelessly around her, bringing with it a chill that it had swept in from the sea. Her target was slowly being carried by the waves further away from the beach, its view now being obscured by her tears that kept getting in the way. Yasmine slipped one of her hands into her coat pocket, pulling out a crumpled tissue which she used to dab her eyes. She took a deep calming breath, her family and friends were standing nearby waiting for her to shoot her arrow.

Her brother had asked that she be the one to do it. The one to shoot the arrow that was going to set alight the boat that would carry his body out to sea towards his final resting place, with his Viking style funeral.

It was all his idea, he was the eldest child.  Out of all of the siblings he had been the more daring, he was the child who would upturn stones then watch in awe as the insects scurried away to find a new haven, he took up sports that risked him breaking bones, driving their parents mad with worry and curtailing the liberty of his younger siblings should they even think about following in his dangerous footsteps.

Her carefree older brother had not been able to stop his later diagnosis of leukaemia eating away at his life, so he devoted every waking moment to defying it, hesitation was taken out of his dictionary. Noone’s raised eyebrow was going to stop him from enjoying his life that had been so cruelly time stamped.

He got married in the time it took for everyone to be surprised. His wife let him call their son Jian, he wanted him to have a name signifying strength as his legacy, everyone would just have to learn how to pronounce it.

“Watch this.” he had said to her one afternoon as they sat in his back garden. He took a picture of his son on his phone, then placed it into an app that made his son look progressively older until he turned into an old man. “I don’t have to wonder.” he said, holding his son closer to him.

Yasmine stood up and took a picture of them both. “This is for him.” she said, showing it to her brother as she sat back down beside him. “So he’ll know how fantastic his dad was.”

And he was, thought Yasmine, absolutely fantastic, he was the best older brother anyone could have asked for.  Showing them how to burst through doors, smashing them off their hinges and ensuring that you left muddy footprints behind you. “Gentle was for old folk.” he had said.

When it was clear that he was coming to the end, he sat them all down.  He wanted the last memories of him in their lives to reflect how he had lived it and not the illness. He had heard about the Viking style burials at sea and that was how he wanted to go out.  That was the memory that he wanted them all to be left with.  It was better than standing around in a cold damp cemetery, besides they were filling up which is why the government was now allowing them to take place. Red tape and restrictions meant that they only carried out two burials a week, and he wanted one of those spots. His spot was now, on a cool May morning, with the breeze rocking his coffin gently further away from the shore.

All her months of archery practice had been in preparation for this solemn moment.  She had even spent the last few weeks at the club moving the target further and further away so that she could send the arrow over the required distance.

Her arms felt incredibly heavy, grief had travelled all the way down them.  By the time it had made its way to her fingers it had become intermingled with anxiety. She was doing her best not to let them start shaking. The funeral attendant was waiting for her to give him the signal so that he could light her arrow.

She could see her younger brother breaking away from the other mourners and walking towards her along the beach. He looked serious, handsome, and smart. Their older brother had insisted that he wear one of his suits.  He had argued that he had enough money to buy a suit of his own, but his brother had demanded that he take one out of his wardrobe and not to waste his damn money. It was amazing how easily arguments were won when you were on your deathbed.

She turned her head to look at him and gave him a tight smile, followed by a brief nod letting him know that she was okay. He stood beside her. She let go of the bow and put her arm around his waist giving him a comforting hug. They both turned and looked out at the small boat carrying their brother’s body.

“We can do this.” she told him, her voice slightly louder than the waves. He took a few steps to the side to give her some space.

Yasmine lifted her arrow, then signalled for it to be lit. She placed it against the bow slowly pulling it back with ever increasing tension on the string.

“Goodbye Miles.” she whispered, kissing the nock before she releasing her fingers allowing the flaming arrow to take flight.  She kept her eyes on as it soared through the air satisfied that its path was true. She saw another arrow quickly follow behind her own. Yasmine did not turn around to see where it had come from. She knew that it was the funeral director's back-up archer.  She smiled to herself, she did not need a failsafe, that was her big brother and she had made him a promise.

Metal slammed into wood as the arrows hit their target and flames engulfed her brother’s final resting place as it gently swayed in the sea. Red smoke drifted up from the boat into the sky, signalling to sailors and all around that her brother was making his final journey.

Taking flight to higher heights flight to escape externals fights flight to conquer internal strife flights fleeing genocide flights connecting families children man and wife.

Flight

by Daniella Edwards

Flights crossing seas in the dead of the night, flights that greet the morning light and bask in the sunshine. Flights that take off but only in the mind, the ones that fly but not to the naked eye.

Anticipation of a flight based solution in search of improvement.

The ability to fly a gift to humans.

Roaming skies soaring above clouds migrating to different towns, flying around. Catching flights, changing life’s flights.