Anne Brisden

People stopped to gawk.

The red dust and mud had settled on the hem of the gown, and I looked as if I'd been dipped in blood.

Abraham's old house had been reduced to a heap of smouldering charcoal.

I knew what I had to do.

I dragged out two blackened bits of wood from the pyre, found some rusting fence wire,

and bound the pieces of wood together to form a cross.

I didn't realise until I'd finished that I'd burned the skin from my hands.

I picked up the cross anyway and walked to the front of the yard.

I found a rock and banged the cross deep into the earth.

Then I looked up to the sky and waited.