Cornered, by Laura Matheson
He had her cornered, unless she was willing to risk the trees.
“Just a little piece of tail, honey?” He leered at her, rank, sweaty.
Shuddering, she backed up.
“You don’t wanna do that, doll.”
She crouched, on the cusp between.
He moved, faster than she’d thought possible, grabbing her arm.
She wrenched away, falling backward into a tree.
He paused, stepped into the trees. He loomed over her, then grabbed at her again. “Just a taste, love?”
The tree behind her moved. She whimpered.
“Run,” it whispered.
“Just a taste, love?” it asked her attacker, branches sweeping toward him.
Laura Matheson is just another mom, two little ones in tow, pencil at the ready, and camera in hand. Originally from the Canadian west coast, she now lives in rural Saskatchewan with her boys, husband, and their two crazy English Springer Spaniels, where she teaches Communications and Technical Writing at SIAST. Visit her website: www.plainstext.com .