Cicada

Ruth and I had been trying to remember. We hid deep in the Savannah woods and lay silent between the wildflowers. Sunlight glinted green off wide kudzu leaves. Not until the cicadas’ chorus erupted around us, drowning all fear of being caught, did my mind finally wander. I could feel it, a memory. It was bubbling to the surface when Ruth leapt up. Ruth had remembered something big.

“I know you,” she whispered frantically. “I know you from before”. She glanced quickly over my head and I realized we were no longer alone.

He sighed, “come with me, Ruth.”