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from P.S. by Liberty Henwick

Copyright © 2021–2022 Emma Liberty Helen Henwick

Chapter 19

I half ran, half stumbled over the bushy ground as best I could trying to head towards where the road might be from the direction of the moving headlights. The landscape was filled with the dark lumps of small thorn trees and shrubs, rocky outcrops and aloe bushes.

As I wove my crooked way through the land, my nose picked up the faint scent of kerosene and the smell of slightly charred mieliepap, in other words, the signs that here was a house not far off. 

Sure enough the strai...


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