stile

The next stile led her on to their own land.

They had come to the stile at the end of the park.

They walked across the field and came to another stile.

Stile had to do better, or the first bad break would put him behind.

Stile knew he could not make it all the way.

But Stile found he could not take the easy way out.

She stood on top of the stile, and he held both her hands.

Just as she was going over the stile a man pulled her back by the hair.

Stile still should have the edge, but much less of one than he had thought.

Then, brought up against a stile, he stood for some minutes, and did not move.

Watched men turn to look at her, thinking they had never seen a woman with so much stile.

Stile felt guilty about not being able to love her.

Stile turned to the woman he would now be dealing with.

Stile turned to find a small man in the path behind.

Because Stile found he could not kill her, this way.

Stile did not want to fight these plants at night.

Yet this was not the way Stile could be bought.

Stile realized that they needed to be told what to do.

Go round by that stile and come on him from behind.

Stile thought, had to be added to the class of most beautiful things.

Stile knew, but of course he was not for sale.

He was the one who had suspended Stile, after all.

Stile perceived, as if through their eyes, what each saw.

In an instant Stile knew what he had to do.

Stile had not played team football in a long time.