It was Saturday morning. Toby was playing with his friends.Toby wanted to fly the kite but Majid wouldn't let go of the string. "It's mine.""Yeeha!" Peter shouted. Toby put his hands to his ears ... [+]
Peter Buckland's story, "Only the Ancestors Bring Fire," was selected by Short Edition in partnership with Penn State University. Peter is a lifelong Pennsylvanian. His work has appeared in The Washington Post, The Watershed Journal, and others.
Her nose knew this smell. The people. The men. Men. Men took the trees. Men made them hot and orange. Men would touch the trees to make them glow in the night. The trees began a new life that filled the air with haze and smoke. It filled her nose with worry. It burned. It filled her with the smell that once was just change but not now. Not now with men. Men. Bear felt inside her mind. She felt the ancestors push her to run, launch her legs to run. But she stood in place and sniffed, pulling the spirit of the forest into her, smelling the whiffs of fire beginning. She was brave. The sun's light