On the tenth day of March at first light, our small wagon train pulled away from the farm. JC led us off riding one of the horses we captured from the...raiders while Anne drove the first wagon in line, one of the covered drays. We had kept six of the captured horses; the other two we traded for a milk cow and her calf.We crossed the muddy Chattahoochee River at Bartlett's Ferry on Mister Bartlett's flat bottomed barge. It took four trips to transport us, our wagons and our livestock across. The. A welcome detour and a quenching of thirst for my hard working mouth. I drank from her thrice, felt her invigorating me, then I thrust my tongue inside, determined to fight my way through towards my destination, but my tongue met no resistance. The barriers and barricades that could’ve been there have dissolved into honeyed, welcoming aid.In a frenzy, my tongue snaked in and out of her, leaving no reachable inch of her insides untasted, delivering the fruits of its labour back to its owner. Her. More

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