#89 Bounty

A sliver moon like a thin scar rises against the black. Dry wind sits in the tree heads, soughing. Tall grasses brush my legs as I pass from the field into the trees. A thing moves in the darkness then I am alone. After some time I reach an opening where a bare rock sits. Wind quietens, I place the bounty on the rock. Ichor seeps. I wait. Eventually the goat appears; a large barrelled billy, slitted eyes knuckled horns. He approaches the bounty and sniffs. Head rises and teeth are bared in grin. “What do you want this for?” I ask. The goat shakes his head mirthlessly. “It’s a secret,” he replies. “A wonderful secret.”