A Reckoning It’s a day like any other: yesterday, its elder brother, slipped us by, like a butterfly salting a sunlit sky; so why does this one flare like a struck match, why does it sting and kick and scratch, and why, each hour a domino, must we walk in sorrow’s shadow, hearts faltering in grim dismay, watching this dragon of a day feed hope to the carrion crow; fearful that its child, tomorrow will twist its tendrils round our throats and squeeze till we are broke? I woke today to the assassin’s blade, rode into the homestead ablaze, felt…