Little John lived up the hill. Where the birds flew under his legs and the dust rolled off his porch.
John would not live to meet the gaze of a tall woman, Shaniqua.
Her braids flapped in the direction of the wind. Her cheeks turned red when he saw little John's shadow. Her eyes began tearing when she saw little John's body, Arms sprawled over the top of the hill, As if hugging Mother Earth.