training

no!
he yelled, exasperated
how many times?!
he demanded to know, as if she would
you’re doing it wrong, he scolded
calming down just a bit
she felt a plum form in the back of her throat
i just need practice 
she said
i have the knowledge
he asked her a riddle
not so smart are we?
re-study your lessons
re-read your books
take better notes
the plum became sour
it melted, digested, turning to acid
regurgitated
yes trainer
she said
and he left
and she kicked the books
and cursed the lessons
tears rolling softly by the pond
staring at lilies, looking for toads
and practicing
fingers raw from the bowstring
shots ringing
into the night and under the glow of constellations
ancient archers 
shooting wooden targets
on galloping stallions above her