Sunday, 8 September 2013


Thunder rumbles. I can't tell which direction it's coming from. The storm that's been promised is almost here. I slept last night, at least for a while. And I dreamt.

I was in a dark place with Bob. I knew it was a cave. I could see his face, lit with some inner luminescence, but nothing else. He was gaunt, and soaked with sweat. He was trembling, and his yellowed eyes stared into mine, searching for something he couldn't find. When he spoke, his voice was a dry rasp. Strands of saliva crossed his mouth. He told me I had to act now. His hold was weakening, was almost broken. If I didn't act, it was the end. The penultimate challenge would be lost, and the balance would shift, and it would be the end. I stared at Bob as he spoke, and I didn't know if he saw me.

I woke standing, with the word 'act' echoing through my head. I blinked my eyes clear. The spade was by feet. Melanie sat behind me, engrossed in the ground, hugging her bad arm to her body. I looked up from the spade, staring into the mist and listening to the thunder. Act.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.