He walked toward the path which would take him to the main road. He felt funny using the words ‘path’ and ‘road’ so loosely to refer to the muddy area the villagers thought of as a road. It was just a trail, a narrow one at that.
He didn’t like this tiny place on earth called Mulberry Hills for its charm like he was told.
The stream down the trail proved to be a promising adventure though. Last night he put the fourth girl to sleep in the depth of the river where the stream took him. Exploring nature is wonderful, he chuckled.
© Vinitha 2020
This Flash Fiction is written in response to the seventeenth edition of Fiction Monday for the word prompt ‘Stream’ hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.