Fiction: Turning Points #6
SIX The wind howled its way through the trees in front of them. Sticks, strips of bark and leaves skittered across the almost flat expanse of grass that lay at the bottom of the gully. Rainfall runoff was directed across the natural shape of the land by a narrow, rock-strewn rivulet; it curved in an arc at the front of the grass, seeming to hold it in its embrace. At this moment, it was seething with water making its way to the lake that lay dark and still beside a huddle of corrugated sheds. The four of them glanced uneasily at each other. They had all felt the tell-tale droplets that annonced the possibility of a rain squall. They didn't need to scan the sky. The leaden clouds hung omminously over the hills that were always pushing at their peripheral vision. 'No point waiting any longer, boys.' With a swagger that the others rarely saw, a tall stick of a man stepped up to the tee he'd already slid into the turf and placed his TalorMade 2 gingerly on top. 'Watch...
