The Ancient Anarchist and Other Stories

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Bukpa had a layer of sweat on his face that he hadn't wiped for a long time. He didn't want to get distracted. There was a vague pain in his chest. The moment he paid attention to it, it increased. It was fear. He didn't think it would be this frightening. He had imagined it very differently. He thought he would go there with immense bravery in his heart and they would all attack the elders' huts of the Jandunga tribe and return with immense pride back to their own tribe. What he felt in his heart was anything but bravery and he couldn't see pride anywhere in the distance. All he could see was doom. Chaos, pain, and death.