Member-only story
Short fiction: Velká Řeka
It is early afternoon on a hot midsummer day, and I’m standing on the shore of River of Tears Lake, soaking up the sun under a cloudless sky. At this time of day, the lake appears like any other, as it takes the darkness of night to make the light of the fireflies under the water to be visible.
There is a distant muffled sound somewhere at the perimeter of earshot — an indistinct repetitive series of thuds, rapid and unrelenting. At first it seems like the closer I try to listen, the more distant and indistinct it becomes. But soon enough, I can tell that the sound is approaching fast. The dull thuds become gradually sharper and hoof-like, a gallop of sorts, but not as graceful as a horse.
Finally, I see a white bull stampeding directly towards me. I freeze in terror even though I know I should run and seek cover. As the bull approaches, I can make out a pair of white-knuckled hands gripping the bull’s horns. I then make out the form of a woman riding atop the bull, her brown hair frantically fluttering in the wind behind her. She is wearing a red leather body suit — it’s the same woman I saw being tortured for the sake of art at the Prussian Occupation Tavern. She looks terrified, and is hanging on for dear life.
The bull charges past me and plunges into the depths of River of Tears Lake, taking her with him. I make my way back to the surface with…
