The Last Wizard: Case Files by Allen Brown Page A

said, I could feel the tension in my brow. Shaking it off I continued: "I just want to get out of this shit hole. I want to be somebody."
       Fatima balanced the weight of the shovel on her finger tips and continued to the site ahead. Following the beaten path behind her, my shovel dragged along the road slicing through the dirt trail. For the next few hours, it was quiet, we both did our work together without a word. The shovel pierced the soft ground with ease like dipping a spoon into creamy custard. 
       A constant steam of clouds hovered over the sun occasionally giving us a break from the harsh rays, not only did it make the work easier, it was a way for us to count the day go by. Fatima stood behind me toiling away in a silent rage, her eyes didn't say it, but the way her hands gripped the neck of the shovel like an executioner gripping his blade for the final bow and finally the grunts from when she dumps the dirt afar. As I drift to the edge of the hill I tilled, I stared outward to the green lands that stretched across the horizon. I could see a world beneath my feet, my finger big enough to crush villages. And the heavens... feeling ever closer above me. I could feel the breeze wrap my body as it pushed onwards to a future determined by its own will.
       Fatima stood taking in the marvel beside me, with me for the brief moment, stretching her shoulder she turned, again, without a word and got back to work. "Are you hurt?" I asked to no response, just a blank fixation of the blood pulsating through my jugular vein.
       A sigh of relief hushed along the low lands of the site as the blaring fog horn signaled lunch. Workers from all corners of the field swarmed to the tents like bees returning from their pollinating duties. Not I though, to hell if I would be herded like sheep, I instead fell onto the dirt of which I dug. Throwing my head back into my arms, I stared skywards, ignoring the growling of my stomach that would probably provoke a stray dog. Mind over matter, it’s what the orphans would say when they had to go to bed without dinner some nights. Closing my eyes, I began my drift from consciences as I began to spawn a dream to bide the time. Before I could venture any further, something small and soft hit my head, a small parcel wrapped in cloth.
       She always knew what I was thinking, what I was feeling. Yet, I could never place her at any given moment, and I hated every time I couldn't. "I'm sorry." I said before taking a bite, why try, I always lose. 
       Its flavor was almost divine, there was just enough cheese to taste and the bread wasn't overly stale. She must of bought the bread fresh in the morning before coming here. "I was out with Sonia last night." I said, the words escaping my mouth on its own will, maybe it was my subconscious fighting to connect. Or, maybe it was just because I hated the silence between us. What I said was enough to get her to look over, her eyes were curious but her mouth mute, she was thinking. "I think she may be our way into the site." I said peaking at her from the corner of my eyes, I knew she said to drop it, but a golden key had fallen onto my lap. "You know... Because she's Galahan's daughter..."
       "I know who she is, idiot." She replied. Fatima had stopped eating, her hands instead turned to picking pieces of bread and flicking it as far as she could. Pigeons eventually gathered over head focusing the crumbs, surveying if it was safe to land and feast. "I think you should take Sonia a bit more serious, she could be your ticket out of this life..." She said.
       "Fatima... I would never..."
       She placed her hands in the air stopping me dead in my tracks like a trained dog waiting for its master. "Why can't you just listen to me? I said to drop it." She said inter-rupting me.
     
       "But why." I said with a sigh of frustration, "I don't get it, why won't you give me a reason."
      "I just think it's not safe."
       "Is this your cult