The sky mourned with the village.
Beneath the gray, flat clouds the sky was the color of curdled milk. Rain fell in drizzling slanted waves as lightning flashed soundlessly far into the distance.
Mary walked with her younger sister, a bucket in each hand while Faith struggled with just one.
“Papa says they’s gonna call the adults together,” Faith grunted. Her white dress, embroidered with green flowers was caked in mud. She shook her head to settle her twin braids behind her. “Tonight at elder Joshua’s home.”
“It’s no business of ours, Faith,” Mary reminded her. Her own dress, handed down from her mother and patched several times over was nearly as filthy. …