tragedy-art (November-2024)

The True Doom of Tublek There was smoke on the horizon.

Tublek turned away from the shoreline and began trudging toward home. He’d only built it the year before—and, if he was being honest with himself, it wasn’t really fully built. He and his wife had a room to themselves, but the children all slept in the same room, the same room where his wife labored over meals to feed them all. But that simple house had become a home.

Somehow, now, he could think of it as home.

Tublek slowly made his way up the long coral-lined path, to the top of the hill where he saw his wife, Saank, holding little Torgr in her arms while Tuksen and Grimdulbr held her legs. They, too, smelled the smoke, saw the plumes coming from the mainland. Perhaps the children didn’t understand, but Tublek and his wife did: the legacy of their warfaring people had returned to haunt them.

Still, Tublek put on a brave smile. “Tuksen, could you take your brother and sister inside while I talk to mother?”

(This post was too long for the character limit. You can read the rest of the story on my blog: https://booludlowbooks.com/the-true-doom-of-tublek/)