At DWC, we have a monthly internal writing competition for our members. Poetry or prose, 150 word limit. You can find previous winners here.
For April, Jean Cooper Moran was our winner on the theme Wilderness with this chilling piece.
Wilderness
Where he heard a wolf
Forskar highway stretches out in front of us, a dark, gleaming snail-trail drawing the eye to where a thousand snow-clad pines challenge the misty horizon. My team are kitted and ready. The elapsed time says ‘missing’; the dreadful logic of policing says ‘crime.’
#
My legs bleed where I hauled myself up through massed thickets of silvered vegetation, leaving a bloody slug-trail behind me. My frozen blood lying there like black frosting on snow. My memories are locked in ice like the leaves and shrubs here. I crawl to a small gully, a gleaming stream of ice. Can I get across? A wolf cries out, a yearning wail. I’m lonely too. Time passes measured only by my slowing heartbeats.
#
I hear them talking, feel the crack of ice-pools splintered by their boots. Their figures blur as they pass me by…and return.